Broken
by OhMyGodWhyDidIWriteThis
Summary: Can Mirai Trunks catch a falling Goten?
1. Goten Son

**I do not own Dragonball Z. **

So this story could probably be retitled and summarized 'OMG Wants Some Goten/Mirai Trunks Love' and it would still be accurate. Because it's true and that is why I'm writing this. It's also an exercise in first person ( because I suck at that! ) so if the writing just seems _off_ that's why. I apologize. Tell me what I should do to be better!

Um, what else do I have to say?... Updates on this are going to be sporadic and not as consistent as my other stories because, well, I want to finish them first. But this here is more of a just 'fun' story, so yeah.

* * *

My name is Goten Son. I'm seventeen, I'm a Libra, and I'm one of the few remaining survivors of a dead alien race that had once tried to annihilate all of earth. I mean, I guess technically I'm not a survivor. My dad is though, and I'm his son, which makes me half intergalactic alien. Either way, it's the sort of thing that you don't want to bring up during parent-teacher conferences when you're trying to explain why your son is failing basic math.

Not that either of my parents _would_ go to… I'm not even sure where my dad is right now and mom's… she's great, don't get me wrong, but I think the stress of the years finally hit her and, well, she's human. My brother's freakin' ancient, which means she has to be even older than ancient to have given birth to him, and it's a scary thought. I don't give her too much grief over not pouring all her effort into my life like the way she did with him. She needs to save a little for herself now.

Besides, at this point it doesn't matter how much someone tries to get involved. It doesn't seem to change anything.

See, most people, when they think of me, don't think "Oh, alien kid!" or "Oh, Goku's son!". They _used_ to but that's changed. Ever since the accident and ever since I shut the hell up, all they can focus on is whether or not I'm going to snap again. Me, I'm a little more caught up with the screaming in my head; it doesn't matter how hard I try to block it out, it's always there, and it's starting to drive me nuts. Which really figures since guess where _I_ am?

God I wish Trunks was here. He'd be trying so hard not to laugh while shaking his head. "Too soon Chibi, too soon."

I might as well start at the beginning of the story, though I'm not sure where the beginning is. The accident seems like an obvious choice, but then I'd have to tell you who was there for the clean-up job and I can just see you scratching your head, looking all cute and confused as you try to figure out what happened. So accident is out. Maybe a little before? I mean, really, it all _did_ start when he arrived, and I still have yet to figure out if it's something I'm grateful for or something I'm pissed about…

* * *

Homework. Highschool. And scene _go_. Some insanely loud and insanely angry music was pouring into my ears ( blame Trunks – everything I listen to is a hand-me-down from him and, honestly, blaming Trunks is pretty much a safe bet for anything in my life ) as I doodled away on my assignment sheet. I was _supposed_ to be writing out a proof for something or other, maybe why the angles of an isosceles triangle were all acute or something, but it was boring as shit and I knew Trunks would just write out the answers for me later. Yeah, I'd probably fail the test, but I'd get an A on the homework and averaged together it would be about a… C.

So music, _loud_ music. Ear-drum splitting volume of music. You gotta understand, I was trying to kill off the remaining functioning brain cells, so when the _crash_ happened I was completely obliviously. I'm sure there was a horrendous screeching and wailing outside from the metal impacting the dirt and from all the trees going topsy-turvy, but I was in my own little world. What I _did_ notice, however, was a sudden spike in power.

"Augh!" Headphones were torn off and tossed across the room, leaving me with the pounding nothingness of silence for a moment. Oddly enough, _that_ hurt more than the screaming guitar that had been assaulting my senses moments before. Go figure, I'm a freak.

Glancing around, I ran a hand back through my hair before tipping my chair back to glance out the window. Everything outside looked all pretty and normal, but sudden energy surges, especially unexpected ones, are quite painful; I knew what I had felt. _Especially_ unexpected panicked ones. "Oh, for the love of- Trunks!" I ground out, standing and kicking the chair back. Without wasting any time I cracked the window open, jumping out from the second floor to catch myself before hitting the ground. Using the building as a launch pad I bounced off, cutting across the wooded land.

Yeah, so I thought it was Trunks. Cause I'm a _moron_. Vegeta would say it's cause I never really took training seriously, and I would say it's cause he was an ass who thought that training meant 'let's see how many tiny children bones I can snap today.' And then things would sort of go dark after that cause he would bitchslap me through a wall and bodies, shockingly enough, don't _like_ it when they're forced through hard objects.

I floated lazily through the trees, gaze flicking to-and-fro rapidly as I tried to pinpoint the exact source of the screaming power. Whatever Trunks had done – and believe me, the guy has done some stupid shit in his life – this was definitely one of the worst. I was almost to the point of feeling sorry for him when I stumbled onto the crash site, all torn up ground and shattered trees. _Shit_, if my mother saw this… "Trunks, man, what the _hell_?"

There was this… thing lying there, all torn up with wires spilling out of open wounds. My first guess was a capsule of some sort, maybe he had been attempting to flee from his parents' wrath, and it completely missed the target of _outer space_ and landed in _my backyard._ I crossed that off as I stepped closer and inspection revealed no propulsion system, so stabilizers, no _nothing_ that would allow for space flight.

You pick up a few things hanging around the Briefs. I understand space travel, but ask me what seven times eight is and all you'll get is a blank look for your efforts.

Four golden 'legs', for lack of a better word, jutted out from the side and two were buried deep within the ground. It was meant to land flat and had obviously failed poorly at that, causing it to be tipped back dangerously, resting against broken tree limbs. The door must have been damaged cause the power signature was definitely coming from inside, all crazy and panicked and on the verge of some break-down, and I could see where the seams were jutting out. Man, he messed that thing up and _how_.

"Okay, just hold on," I grumbled, jumping up and landing heavily on the capsule. It shuddered and the person inside froze, the energy level dipping down, and I grinned. "Big baby. You just don't want your mom to know you damaged her latest toy," I teased as I slipped my fingers between the cracks and _pulled_. The metal screamed for a moment as I ripped it away, peeling up to reveal a very frightened, and rather _injured_, Trunks sitting in the damaged cockpit.

Here's where the story gets funny, and by funny I mean I was completely not amused. I guess Trunks, ah, _that_ Trunks took my 'help' as a form of attack. And, well, he didn't know who I was. So he just did the first thing that came naturally to him.

He lunged at me, wrapped his hands around my throat, and tried to choke the ever-loving life out of me while pile driving me to the ground.

"Ah… Trunks…" Gasping for air, I reached up and jammed my fingers against his eyes. Not really the most dignified of moves, but considering I was slowly being oxygen deprived I thought it fair that he got a close-up of my thumb. The man above me let out a howl of pain, grip slackening, and I kneed him in the crotch.

Best. Relationship. Start. _Ever._ "What the _fuck_ Trunks?" I spat out, rolling to the side. Propping myself up with my elbows, I glared at him and rubbed my throat as he slowly uncurled from the instinctive hunched up position all guys went into when the special area was damaged. "You know what, fuck you, I'm gonna go tell Bulma you wrecked with her latest project if you're going to be such a dick."

"Bul… Mother?" I arched a brow as the words came out laced with such surprise and confusion. Trunks slowly relaxed and seemed to regard me in a whole new light, left eye red and watery and squinty. "You know my Mother?"

"Uh, news flash, we grew up together, of course I know her?" Standing up, I brushed the dirt from the back of my pants and eyed him suspiciously. "Geeze, what, did you hit your head or something?" Now that I was really examining him I could see the cuts and bruises covering nearly every inch of exposed flesh. _Odd_, though a crash landing would probably account for that. Wouldn't account for the weird sense of style, though; Trunks hated being known as the 'Capsule Corp brat' and would never be caught dead wearing a jacket ( especially one that small ) with its logo, not to mention the _shoes_.

"… grew up together." He looked down, expression going blank for a moment, and I resisted the urge to wave my hand in front of him. "… what year is it?"

"Uh… 784. Any other questions with painfully obvious answers you want to ask me?"

Standing up slowly, he glanced back at the wreckage of the capsule and grimaced. "Yes. Where is my Mother?" At that both my brows shot up and I shook my head.

"Nuh-uh, crazy bizarro Trunks. You're not going to fool me into telling you that."

He blinked and seemed to snap, darting toward me suddenly and slamming me back against a tree. Trunks, I mean, he's stronger than me, I'll admit that. There are a lot of reasons why, though most notable is probably because as time went on I started to care less and less about it. I mean, training is what my dad and what my brother did and I guess I just gave up; how was I going to compare to the two strongest men in the universe?

Yeah, so, Trunks. And me. Pined to a tree. This was probably when I started to really put the pieces together and figure out this wasn't _my_ Trunks because _my _Trunks was not this strong ( but he was this crazy! ) and _my_ Trunks, last time I had checked, had looked a few years younger. It was a subtle thing, but I was sure the scar etched under his eye hadn't been there before and that my Trunks wasn't sporting a hairstyle that could double as a mop head.

"Where is my _Mother_?" he hissed again, hands fisting my shirt and forcing my back painfully against the tree. I grimaced and squirmed; could you say _morning breath_?

"Chill out! She's at your home, probably working on some new invention like always-" I didn't even have a chance to finish what I was saying before he shoved me back harder, tree splintering from the pressure, and then took off. Like _boom_ and energy was burning me in the face as he burst from the ground, completely forgetting to pull his ki in and working off of sheer adrenaline. Shrugging some bark off the back of my shirt I followed suit in a calmer fashion, easily catching the erratic half-saiyan. "Hey, seriously, what's going on!"

"This doesn't concern you!" the man – _not _Trunks – shouted back and I scowled. Being told to 'bugger off' in one way or another pretty much summed up my existence up until now and I was _not_ about to let some crazy guy get away with doing it as well. Turning about to fly on my back, I jetted forward a moment to get under him. It was his turn to be Not Amused, glaring down a moment before focusing on flying faster.

"You're trying to find my best friend's mom, I'm going to go out on a limb and say _yes_, I'm very much concerned!"

"Go back _home_ kid!"

Say _what_ bitch? _Kid_? Oh he just did not… "Gah!" I had mentioned that the guy was injured, right? Cause the effort of flying as half-cocked as he was compounded with the crazy irrational stunts he had pulled earlier ( plus, you know, internal injuries ) caused him to suddenly flicker out, ki fading as he fell. He was grimacing, one hand pressed to his stomach, and I'm sure that he would have caught himself before eating dirt, but being _right under him_ made it hard not to play Super Hero and grab a big armful of Ungrateful Ass. We both sunk down a few feet and, once I corrected my own flight pattern, I started to lower us to the ground.

"Crazy guy, are you okay?" I asked, feet touching the ground. He glared and I shrugged. "You're kind of holy shit that's a lot of blood." The fabric of his shirt was beginning to turn red and, after moving his hand away, I could see a tear where an oozing slit was in his stomach. "What happened to you…"

"I need to see my Mother," he repeated, but now I could hear the pleading and desperation buried under all the threats. I sighed and shifted around so that his arm was pulled over my shoulders, supporting most of his weight as he leaned against me. "I need to make sure she's okay."

"Trust me buddy, with Trunks and Vegeta there she's _more_ than okay," I answered back as I cautiously lifted up from the ground. The positioning didn't seem to be causing him anymore pain and it wasn't going to take long to get back my house anyways. "Mind telling me your name so I'm not just thinking of you as That Crazy Guy?"

"I'm Trunks…" I felt oddly unsurprised hearing this, even with my earlier revelation that he was _not_ Trunks. "Hey… are you related to Goku?" As he asked that he craned his head to the side, giving me a lopsided smile. I frowned, rankled by that question. Color me crazy but I _hated_ being known as nothing more than Goku's son. Apparently Crazy Guy was going to follow in the same pattern.

"Yeah," I said shortly. There was an attempt made to keep the resentment out of my tone but I'm guessing it failed cause Crazy Trunks stopped asking questions after that. The fact that he was also bleeding profusely from inside his stomach… yeah, I figured it was my tone that had more to do with his silence.

In retrospect, maybe all the paranoia wasn't something that was suddenly dumped on me. I was pretty whacked out, though I had the special ability of 'appearing normal'.

Landing on the ground in front of the front door, I 'umphed' as the guy just sagged against me. Cursing under my breath I dragged us both inside, hand slapping at the wall switch as I felt around for my mom. She wasn't there, which wasn't really _surprising_ since I hadn't heard any complaints to my abrupt take-off, but was a bit unfortunate consider we didn't keep any beans lying around and I knew next to nothing about first aid. "I hope you're not so bad off you're going to pass away in the next couple of moments." It wasn't something I really meant to say out loud, but it ended up getting grumbled as I made my way toward the couch in the living room.

Crazy Trunks laughed, of all things, in response. "I think I can hold on a little longer," he said, his tone _teasing_ I swear to Kami and I flushed. Talk about overreactions. The guy had some crazy power and I was worried a little flesh wound would do him in.

He slipped down to the couch, collapsing back to lie stretched out, and I straightened to look down. The jacket, shirt, and pants were torn and dirty and stained red along some of the longer gashes, speaking to some sort of fight. "Hey, um, I'm gonna go make a phone call…"

"I still need to find my Mother." I blanched and he frowned before struggling to sit up, elbows digging back into the cushions. "Please, I need to know that she's okay."

If I was smarter like, say, Gohan I probably would have put the pieces together right then, but at the moment I was still dealing with an anomaly. "I'm going to get some people out here who can take care of this and then we'll see about you and Bulma." The people I was planning on calling were the Briefs so it wasn't like they were mutually exclusive goals. I just wanted to have Trunks and Vegeta around before introducing a possibly deadly force to their mother and wife. Cause, you know, I'm not sure Hallmark makes any cards suitable for the 'opps, sorry I accidentally got a beloved family member killed' occasion.

The man slumped back, exhaustion over taking him. Keeping one eye on him I crept to the kitchen to pick up the cordless phone. Trunks' number, the one for his private line, was something I had memorized ever since I was twelve, so I was hardly paying attention when I punched them in. A good thing since I was too preoccupied with keeping an eye on the crazy.

One ring, two ring, thr- "Mm… hello?" His voice was sleep-clogged and I spun about, glaring balefully at the phone before remembering he couldn't see me. Here I was, studying my _ass_ off ( complete lie! ) and dealing with the Crisis of the Century ( and look, exaggerations! ) while Trunks was laying about, _sleeping_ during the middle of the day. I hated him sometimes, I really did.

"Trunks," I hissed, cupping a hand around my mouth to keep my voice from carrying. "I have a… situation. Can you get your dad and maybe your mom to come out here?"

"Your mom will be back soon, you don't need to panic if you ran out of food…"

"What? No!" I could _hear_ him flinch and then grin at my abrupt change in tone. "Damnit Trunks, I was _ten- _Look, seriously, something weird just happened." I turned to look back out into the living room; Crazy Trunks had his eyes closed and was breathing evenly, looking to be fast asleep. Hell, maybe he _was_ fast asleep – I would be if I had taken a beating like his. "There's this guy, he's sleeping on my couch-"

"Chi-Chi will understand when you come out to her. You don't need to worry about having us there to protect you."

"I swear to Kami Trunks, I am going to beat you to death with your own calculus textbook." A pause. "Oh, yeah, and my homework, I need help with that too…" I shook my head slightly before leaning forward, one hand pressed against the side of the doorway for balance. "Look, he appeared in this capsule-thing and he looks just like _you_ and he says his name is Trunks and he's freaking out cause he wants to see Bulma."

So I know I said that if I Gohan-smart ( which would be _crazy_ smart ) I would have figured out what was going on. Apparently I didn't even need to be that aware of the situation; Trunks caught on and he only got the jumbled version of the story from me. "… what did the capsule look like?"

"I dunno. Not a space-capsule capsule, more like a weird… golden four-legged insect capsule."

"Is the guy okay?" In the background I could hear him getting up, bedsprings creaking, and the sound of clothing being rustled on.

"Were you talking to me _naked_?"

"I had pants on and stop getting distracted Chibi."

"Oh, right. He's pretty banged up but nothing that can't be fixed."

He sighed, door whining in the background as he thumped down the steps. "All right. Just keep on eye on him; we'll be there shortly." There was a 'click' and the call ended then, leaving me even more mystified than I had been to begin with. I had thought there would be panicking and flailing and maybe even the gnashing of teeth at the news that a doppelganger had appeared, but Trunks had handled the whole situation gracefully. Remember now, _I_ was the idiot who still wasn't putting the pieces together, so I'm sure his whole 'grace' came from that. Completely would have been nice for him to fill me in on it then but, you know. Whatever.

I placed the phone back on the counter and 'hmphed' before stepping into the living room. Crazy Guy was still lying there all peaceful like and I sat down on the coffee table to keep an eye on him. In retrospect it sounds a little creepy, sitting there just watching some stranger sleep, but remember the choking? I sure as hell did.

"Mother…" I blinked and sighed. He was pretty _obsessed_ with the idea of Bulma, to the point that he was crying out ( well, mumbling, but I'm sure in his _dreams_ he was crying ) for her in his sleep.

"Jeeze, guy," I said stiffly. "She's on her way here, you know. You can relax."

Honestly, I don't know why I said that. I guess I just felt bad for him and I wanted to help. That was one of the stupider traits that all the males in my family possessed, the inane urge to help _everyone_. I mean, who does shit like this? Taking back a stranger you found beaten and bloodied in the woods? And that moment was probably the turning point to the whole ordeal, the moment I found myself starting to get 'attached.'

Turns out your mom is right. You should only name the pets you _want_ to keep.


	2. Mirai Trunks Briefs

AN: Chapter two, here faster than I thought it would be! This was insanely fun to write and insanely fast to write too. Seriously, I love this story.

Big thanks to everyone to favorited and put this story on alert. Huge thanks to Urikaa for the wonderful review.

ETA: Some minor silly grammar mistakes have been fixed. Brain fritz on my part.

* * *

My name is Trunks Briefs.

This is probably going to come as a shock to some of you. I should know; my own family has yet to get the name down right. It is not, despite their best attempts to make it so, Mirai, nor is it Torunksu. Tacking on the word 'Future' before my name doesn't turn it into some strange hyphenated beast either. It is, just like my past counterpart, simply the word Trunks.

And to be honest, I was born into the name first. Why am I always getting the prefixes and the nicknames while he assumes the mantle of being the 'original'? _My_ timeline _was_ the original timeline, a fact that everyone forgets in favor of smiling faces and happy thoughts. I came back in time to save you all and you repay me by casting me in the role of the understudy.

I think… I think that's why I started to fall for him. It wasn't one of those 'love at first sight' deals – I think I'm a little too broken to even believe in anything like that, let alone fall for it. But there was a certain attraction with the way he treated me. There were no preconceived notions in his eyes; I was nothing more than a stranger who happened to bear a resemblance to his friend, a stranger who shared his name. I was a Trunks and that was fine, no more unusual than discovering that you know two Kana's or two Ryo's.

He adapted. He accepted. He didn't try to mold me. And part of me clung to that desperately while everyone tried to make me fit into their perfect world.

* * *

There are several different types of amnesia. When I found that out I was honestly surprised – I had thought that it simply meant that you didn't remember and that was it. Bu-… Mother explained it all to me later, though, and that's why when I woke up on the couch in the Son's living I had no memory of being carried there by Goten, or of the crash, or of the horrific accident that had happened in my own time which had prompted me to come back to begin with.

Retrograde amnesia. Specifically, a repressed memory. I remembered later, but all I felt was panic right then.

"… all right?"

"Well, there was nothing broken when I checked him over, but some of the lacerations were pretty deep. They should be taken care of now but we won't know for sure until he wakes up."

"Well it was a senzu bean. That should take care of everything."

"It _should…_"

One of the voices was my mother's and a bit of the panic eased away. Sitting up, I glanced down and took stock of myself. My jacket and shirt were torn and there was a bloody tear across my stomach, though the exposed flesh beneath it was completely smooth with scar tissue. I frowned as I traced a finger over it before taking stock of the rest of my body; completely healed. There were no senzu beans in my time and one of the voices had referred to them. It would make sense considering how refreshed I felt, but the only time I had ever been able to get my hands on them lately was…

But, there was no way. Why would I be back _then_?

Floorboards creaked and I glanced up to see a teen with spiky black hair step through the doorway into the room. He was carrying a plate stacked with several sandwiches and though I wasn't hungry my stomach growled. Food was pretty much a 'grab what you could when you could' thing for me. "Oh, you're wake. Bulma!" he shouted, and I couldn't help but perk up. "See Trunks, I _told_ you she was okay," he added, teasing me as he put the plate on the table.

Ah. So. Apparently he knew me. Which was awkward because _I didn't know him_. I smiled hesitantly and looked back to the doorway, waiting in anticipation for my mother to appear. I didn't have to wait long; within moments she stepped into the room, a wan smile on her lips. "Hello Mirai," she said softly, and I stared in confusion.

I had figured out that I was back in the past but this wasn't the mother, the _Bulma_ that I knew. She was definitely too… _old_, practically as old as my own mother. Vivid blue hair was pulled back into a neat bun as she wore a smart two-piece grey pants suit. My confusion was probably evident and I guess she misread it because she hurried out to sit by me, hands reaching up to touch my cheeks as she peered into my eyes. "Does your head hurt?" she asked and I couldn't help but smile.

It didn't matter what timeline I was in, my mother was still my mother.

"Not, I feel fine," I answered truthfully and she nodded, satisfied with that answered. "I'm just a little surprised to see you, that's all… I didn't mean to come back. And the last time I saw you, you were…" I paused, voice trailing off as I groped around for the right words to say 'twenty years younger.' She got my meaning, though, and laughed as I flushed.

"I wasn't as wise as I am now, is that what you're hinting at?" she said, teeth flashing as she grinned, and the flush turned into a crimson burn. The spiky-haired kid smiled as well, sitting on the edge of the table as he enjoyed my torment at her hands. "Well, it's a good seventeen years later Mirai. Did you mean to put this year in?"

"I…" I thought about lying for a moment, but my mother had always possessed the uncanny ability to see through my attempts before and trying to start now seemed like a poor idea. "I don't know. I can't really remember even coming back, so I'm guessing I didn't."

"Well when I found you, the machine was all busted up," the kid interjected and Mother glanced over her shoulder to look at him. "Even the mechanism to open the door was broken; I had to pry it up myself. So maybe something malfunctioned and you meant to go back to the time you had come before but it sent you here instead?"

"That's a very astute observation Goten," Mother said and her hands dropped from my face. I felt both relieved at finally knowing the mystery youth's name and forlorn at the lack of contact. "Tomorrow you can take me out to the wreckage and I'll see what I can do with putting it back together." I nodded, unsure if I wanted to go back, though my own mother was waiting for me there. "For the meantime, though, you need a place to stay."

"He can stay here," Goten said, and Mother gave him a sidelong glance. "… well, he _could_. Gohan's room's still empty and I doubt Mom would mind since, um… you know."

"Yes, I'm sure Chi-Chi would love to have another mouth to feed," Mother said dryly. "I want to make sure there are no ill effects from time traveling but supposing there are none I guess in a week or so he could come back out here." Goten seemed to silently cheer at the prospect of this while Mother managed to convey the emotion of rolling her eyes without having to actually do so. I was impressed and grateful – as nice as he seemed I wanted to stay close to her, at least for now.

Something told me that I needed to, that I needed to make sure that nothing _happened_. I was sure that it was a bit of paranoia left over from some bad time travel but it wasn't going away and I wasn't really trying to shake it.

She stood and I followed, legs feeling slightly shaky and head starting to spin. It was odd; senzu beans were supposed to heal _all_ injuries and rejuvenate the one who ate it completely, though I could understand how Time Lag could possibly be beyond it. Glancing between us, Goten hastily stood as well and grabbed a sandwich before shoving it into my hand. "You know, in case you get hungry on the trip," he said, and I couldn't help but smile.

The kid was nothing if not goofy and at this Mother _did_ roll her eyes. "Yes Goten, because it's going to be such a large and arduous trip sitting in the passenger seat of my jet," she said, the barest hints of sarcasm underlying her tone as she led me out of the house. It was fairly small but homey and I could see the Sons living there – Goten had mentioned Gohan moving out and, from his appearance, I was guessing they were brothers making him another son of Goku. It made sense since Goku had died so early in my timeline. I wouldn't recognize him because he simply didn't exist for me.

"Well, I mean, you never know," he mumbled, a blush spreading. Taking pity on him I lifted up the sandwich and bit into it, tearing off a third as he grinned and Mother threw her hands up in defeat. "See you later Trunks," Goten said, and I nodded while I chewed.

Turkey and cheese, I think. Well, that and bread. Goten wasn't, Goten _isn't_ really that great at cooking. I mean, it tasted okay, but I'm definitely not one to judge when I was practically raised off of gas-station food. Even so I found it sort of odd to be literally eating bread-and-meat with nothing else added in – no vegetable, no dressing, no… nothing.

When Mother made that offhand comment about sitting in her jet I had let it go ( read: I had ignored it ) simply because jets, and vehicles of that persuasion, didn't really exist anymore for me. Oh, sure, there were aircrafts, but the Androids pretty much attacked anything in the sky so Mother and I had designed ki-shield generators for them. They were ugly things, more like military cargo ships, and they were armed to the teeth in an attempt to fend off the attacks. More than half of the trips ended with the ships being blown sky-high, though. Toward the end of the crisis nothing was allowed to take flight if I wasn't escorting it and only things of a dire nature, like medical supplies or grain and the like, were allowed to be flighted across any sizeable distance.

Trunks, trailers, and trains had the same problem; so many people starved or died of curable illnesses because the Androids prevented supplies from reaching their homes.

So she spoke of a jet and I was picturing some cramped and ugly military vehicle with a swollen belly for turrets and gunmen to hang out of and she pulled out a capsule and out came this… thing. I can honestly say I had never seen anything like it before because I think everything like it had been gutted and used for scrap metal by the time I was five. It was beautiful and it was nothing but decadent.

"I… I could just fly back," I started as she hushed me. Steps slid down, allowing us to walk into the aircraft, and she eased into the pilot's seat with ease.

"Nonsense Mirai. You were passed out from exhaustion and blood-loss. You need to just kick back and take it easy for a while and let someone else do all the work for you." Blinking, I sat myself in one of the plush black seats and leaned back, feeling uncomfortable with all the comfort and confused at her words. Exhaustion? Blood-loss? I didn't remember any of that and it didn't seem like something you would just forget. "Now we'll be back home in about an hour. Just close your eyes and relax."

I nodded and took another bite of the sandwich, chewing absentmindedly as I stared out the window. As the jet began to lift off I watched, fascinated, as the scenery slowly turned into a patchwork design of fields and forests. The only thing marring it was an ugly scar of upturned land a bit away from Goten's house and, as I looked longer, I realized that was the crash site.

That was the time capsule.

I swallowed hard, finishing the sandwich, and looked away. Window-watching wasn't really my thing anyways – I got motion sick and I didn't feel like throwing up all over the interior of Mother's nice and clean jet. Leaning back, I did like she told me to and closed my eyes, allowing myself to relax. It was a bit hard but the exhaustion I had felt earlier must not had been all related to the injuries; it was bone deep and came back after a few minutes, slowly dragging me back into the realm of sleep.

So I don't normally remember my dreams. I know I dream every night because I know everyone does – it's what you do when you sleep. But I think I read somewhere that you only dream during certain types of sleep, something called R E M sleep and you only remember if you get woken up during that period. Don't go around quoting me about that, but it sounds just about right to me.

I dreamt… and it was horrible. Mother, _my_ Mother, was standing there and she was screaming. We were standing in the Garrison Building, a factory that was focused on mass-producing steel to help rebuild buildings and towns. I had defeated the Androids, 17 and 18 and Cell and everyone was so _damn happy_ except for Mother. She was just screaming and screaming and I noticed one of the furnaces was damaged, the readout was all wrong, and I wanted to say something to her about this if only she would stop _screaming_-

"Mirai." A gentle hand touched my shoulder and my eyes snapped open, ever alert. Every muscle in my body tensed and for a moment I forgot where I was as I stared up into the eyes of my Mother, confused as to how she lost five years. Everything slowly trickled back – everything meaning the previous events with Goten – and I relaxed and smiled. She breathed a sigh of relief and stepped away, allowing me to get up.

"Where is…?" I stumbled with my words for a moment, not sure what, or how, to say what I was thinking next. "Father? And, um…"

"Vegeta and Trunks are here," Bulma said, leaning over to press a few buttons on the control panel. The step slid out again and she gestured for me to follow. "Bulla's also here and she's so excited to meet you. The thought of having two brothers, even just for a little while-"

"… Bulla?"

Mother nodded as she stepped down and, once at the bottom, looked up at me. "Yes. She's your… she's your younger sister."

I nodded slowly as I walked down to stand beside her. In the background I heard her recapsulize the jet while I thought about that. "How… how old is she," I asked after a moment. Mother straightened, slipping the capsule into her purse, and thought for a moment.

"Well, Trunks is about eighteen and she was born when he was… so… Nine." She laughed then, turning to look at me. "You must think I'm horrible, not knowing how old my own children are."

"Oh, no, of course not!" I said quickly, though the thought had crossed my mind.

"What about you?" She asked. "Did your mom have any other kids?" I shook my head quickly, looking down.

"Mother… was too caught up in her work to even think about seeing another man, and after Father died I don't think she had it in her." I smiled before she could say anything to try to ease the tension. "I always wanted a younger brother or sister but I never wanted to try to raise them in that world. Gohan was pretty much my brother-"

Abruptly I stopped as I remembered what happened to him. Mother stared at me curiously; I wasn't sure if I had ever told her the story and I didn't feel like asking her if I did. When it became clear that I wasn't going to continue she made a movement of her head, gesturing toward the house. "Let's go in. I'm sure they know we're here by now. Bulla's probably jumping all over Vegeta and Trunks is probably whining about not being able to come out to meet you."

I nodded, allowing her to take the lead as she walked up the paved driveway toward the impressive household. The Son household had been quaint, homey, and charming; this home was more of a mansion and even from the outside I could see that it screamed money, just like the jet. The entire Son home probably would have fit into one of their domed _buildings_…

Before she could even open up the front door it was yanked out and there stood a blue-haired little girl with a purple-haired teen behind her. I blinked, feeling an odd sense of déjà-vu as I was staring at a man who could pass as me as he tried to grab for the child, but she darted away from him and slipped around Mother. "Future Trunks, Future Trunks!" she sang out, jumping and clinging to my waist while looking up and grinning at me. I could only stare back down, baffled as she started to giggled. "You're my Future Brother Future Trunks!"

"Damnit Bu-! Ah, sorry Mom," the teen said quickly, hurrying out to grab her arm to try to pull her away from me. "Bulla, we're supposed to be waiting inside," he ground out, making a point to look away from me in his attempts to get the girl to let go. The more he pulled the more she latched on, though, and I quickly found myself in the middle of a game of tug-of-war.

"Ahh! Mommy!" The cry was earsplitting and I winced, covering my ears, as Bulla shrieked. "Trunks is being _mean_ to me!"

"Mom!" Exasperated, he turned to stare at Mother. "You saw what just happened! Tell her to let go!"

"Trunks, stop harassing your sister," Mother said, tone weary. My past self gaped like a fish on dry land while Bulla sneered. "And Bulla, let Mirai go. You can see him inside after he had a chance to settle in."

"Aww…" Reluctantly the child released me, pouting before glancing up and smiling. "I can hold your hand, right Future Trunks?" she asked brightly, gripping my left hand tightly.

"Um…" I glanced at Mother before saying anything and she gave a small nod. Looking down I nodded as well and she let out a shout of joy, skipping in place as I smiled. "You can hold my hand Bulla," I said softly.

Trunks rolled his eyes and walked away as I looked up. I frowned, feeling a bit put off by his cold attitude, especially after the way Mother had described how he was going to act. Mother, apparently, was equally put off – she followed him inside, berating him loudly as she went, and I winced. It wasn't _that_ big of a deal; I imagine that I wouldn't be acting that happy if my look-a-like suddenly appeared in my own timeline.

"Big Brother doesn't think you should stay," Bulla said in a conspiratorial whisper, confirming my thoughts and causing me to sigh.

"Big Brother doesn't need to worry, Bulla," I said after a moment. "I don't intend on staying."


	3. Dance Lessons

AN: Looks like this story wins when it comes to 'what am I most interested in?' Ah, we finally see the first _hints_ in this chapter...

Thanks again to everyone who favorited or alerted this story. Huge, _huge_ thanks to Rayne for the lovely comment. I agree, first-person stories tend to have the tendency of destroying characterizations but, oddly enough, I suck at writing them. My decision to turn this into a first-person narrative was so I could practice and get better at writing out different people. I hope you continue to enjoy it!

Edit: Oh yes. So if you happen to be reading this story and enjoying it, would you mind checking out the story **Princess Diaries**by **Tessellation Reynolds**? It's a completely wonderful story that's been overlooked as the main character is, currently, an original one. Trust me though, TR knows how to spin a good yarn and it would be a shame to ignore the story just because of that.

* * *

When I turned five, or six – honestly I can't remember – my mom had the brilliant idea of enrolling me in grade school. To fully understand the _idiocy _of this decision, you would have to be aware that a year prior Bulma and Vegeta had tried to do the same thing. Now, between the two of us Trunks is probably the one who fits in better in the 'real world', but back then… well, you don't go up to a demi-saiyan and demand he gives you the train he's playing with because _you_ want it. And you don't stick the child of a billionaire in a classroom with 'ordinary' kids and expect them all not to hate him because of his parents.

I _think_ they managed to get the lawsuit dropped, but only because the judge refused to believe that a child could toss another child throw a wall. Bulma still sends out monthly payments to his family, though, to cover all the hospital bills. They're marked 'anonymous' but everyone knows who they're from.

So, anyway, my mom. And her brilliant plan. Which was fucking _retarded_. I mean, did she really believe I would behave better? And I almost didn't, I almost got kicked out on the first day cause I wanted to show Trunks I was just as mature as he was ( we were fucking retarded, okay? Cut us some slack ) when the teacher told to all 'gather around!' and that we could pick out whatever job we wanted to, whatever career path, and we would get to learn about it for a whole _week_.

I was stunned. Absolutely blown away. Getting to pick something out _on my own_? Talk about a dream come true! Not to mention easiest assignment ever – I wanted to save the world from aliens like my dad and I knew _all about that_, thank you very much.

I have never heard of a fireman before. Or a baker ( though I was intimately familiar with their wares ). Or a vet or that you could make a living driving _cars_. Holy _fuck_ if there's a more decadent job I have yet to find out. And there I was, ready to shout out that I wanted to 'fight aliens!' and the teacher turned to me, smiling so gently, and I blurted out the first honest thing I could think of.

I didn't know.

I was sitting there, surrounded by kids who had never done anything _useful_ in their life. To be fair, at this point neither had _I_ – this was several years before Buu and even then I was a bit, well, _young_ to really be of much help – but at least I knew what was out there. I was growing up without a dad because he had died ( twice! ) defending the earth. Up until that moment, my path in life had been crystal clear and it had revolved around following in his footsteps, just how everyone knew that Trunks would eventually settle down and follow in his mom's.

Until that moment. Fix, or six years old, and my smiling teacher handed me my first existential crisis.

I lasted a whole week and ended up decided that I wanted to be an animal trainer because that was like the coolest fucking thing in the world, seriously, being paid to being around cuddly ferocious beasts all day long? My illustrious school career was cut short when another kid picked the same thing and we got in a fight over who could have it. Apparently there could be only one animal trainer _ever_.

So… yeah. I don't know why I'm remembering this now. But it seems vaguely relevant. Everyone I knew, everyone I looked up to and held dear, they all had the same unsaid expectation, that I was going to wind up like my dad and be a Nobody. No one cared if I failed a class or got poor marks because what did it matter? I wasn't like Gohan, I wasn't like Trunks, and no one had hopes for me.

That teacher did. That teacher wanted me to be whatever I wanted.

* * *

It was a good week before I actually spoke with Trunks again. I had wanted to go over to the Briefs' that night and see what was going on ( I mean, come _on_, it sounded like shit was about to go down and I wanted my front-row seat and bucket of popcorn ) but then mom came home. And I'm fairly certain I alluded to certain outbursts of anger coming from her when she found out that part of our backyard had been turned to mulch. Never mind that she would never _see_ it, or that it wouldn't affect the property value ( Ha! Haha HA ha… ) – when ChiChi gets angry about something, she is An. Gry.

"_WHAT?_ But that forest, those trees – You played out there as a _child _Goten!"

Okay, maybe instead of _angry_ she just gets melodramatic. Either way, ear drums wish to say _ow_.

"Oh, and Goku and Gohan used to play out there together when Gohan was a little boy and we would have our family picnics and Goten, what happened to our _family_? This never, never would have happened if we had just-" The bags were being banged onto the counters, cabinets ripped open as cans were tossed in, and I backed away as her nostrils flared and her eyes glinted in the light. Satan – and I don't mean Gohan's ex-wife's Dad – could be seen in her expression. "No one ever bothered to listen to what I _wanted_! _This_ is why nothing ever stays nice here!"

Aaaand it's come full circle. Brilliant.

I smiled and nodded patiently as she continued to storm about, knowing better than to take her theatrics seriously. From an outsider's perspective I'm sure the words 'crazy' or 'abusive' would be applied but she's really not that bad. She married a full-blooded saiyan and managed to, somewhat successfully, raise two half-bloods; a woman has to 'man up' and find some way to compensate. It would have been super awesome if her compensation didn't come at the cost of my _hearing_, but what can you do?

"And this 'Future Trunks'," she snarled as the milk was slammed into the fridge with unnecessary force. I gave it a worried glance, fearful that I would be mopping up the inside of the appliance for the next week. "Every time he comes back there's nothing but trouble for my family! Why can't he leave good enough alone and stay in his own time where he belongs?"

Images of the broken purple-haired warrior flashed through my mind and I bit my lower lip to stifle the first remarks that came to mind, images more than words of _how would you like to be in his place?_ You never Talk Back to mom. It just… it just wasn't _done_.

"I know," I said after a moment, swooping in to scoop up a bag of undamaged groceries. She glanced at me suspiciously and I smiled back, all sunshine and buttercups as I twisted on my heel to march toward the pantry. "How _dare_ he come back from his timeline by accident and try to make sure Aunt Bulma's okay. Such _dreadful_ behavior for a young man."

"Goten," she said, annoyance and exasperation coloring her tone.

"I _promise_ I won't allow him to drag me off gallivanting to other planets to fight evil forces bent on destroying the earth," I said solemnly. "If he tries to warn of us any sort of threat our way I'll jam my fingers in my ears and 'naa naa' him to death."

For a moment she managed to give me a stern glare as I juggled the contents of the bag in one hand to open the pantry door, but a smile cracked her resolve and she laughed, throwing her hands up in the air in defeat. "Oh, Goten, what am I going to do with you?" she asked, head tilting to the side some as she watched me. I shrugged and grinned back, knowing that I had won this round.

"Tell me that I'm fantastic and super special and that I'm your favorite son in all meanings of the term?" I asked, glancing around the door to see her expression. She rolled her eyes but still smiled as she went back to finishing unpacking the week's worth of food.

So that was Day One ( or maybe Day Zero? ) and I ended up spending the rest of the night trying to understand the indecipherable math homework I had been assigned on my own.

I went over after school on Day Two ( it was a Friday so totally had an awesome excuse if I wanted to spend the night ) and I was all jazzed about really meeting the other Trunks. I mean, sure, he did try to kill me, but I _guess_ I could forgive the guy as long as he had some awesome stories to tell.

Day Two did not… there was no story telling. There was no talking. There was-

"That goddamned motherfucking _bastard!_"

There was an angry Trunks. _My_ Trunks. I was sitting on the floor of his room, backpack leaning against my side, and I stared up at him with a sort of 'holy fuck, is he going to kill me now?' expression as he just _raged_. Trunks is generally a pretty cool guy but he's also a spoiled brat. This doesn't have so much to do with the money ( though I'm sure that really hasn't helped anything ) as it has to do with how insane his parents are and the fact that he was an only child for ten years. Bulma and Vegeta were not ready to raise a kid so he got shuttled around from nanny to au-pair to babysitter and, in between when mommy and daddy _could_ actually spend time with him it generally amounted to 'what do you want so you can be happy?'

Well… with Bulma at least. Vegeta's always been more of a 'hand's on' kind of father. Like, 'oh, you've learned to walk, now's the perfect time to _start_ _training_.'

"Who, ah… is the…?" I offered hesitantly, not wanting to exasperate the situation further but wanting to show that _I was here_, though my presence was probably completely unnecessary. Trunks could rage at thin air and put the fear in it if he was pissed enough.

"That… _guy_. _Mirai_," he hissed, whirling about to face me and jabbing his finger toward the door. I nodded as if I understood but now I was even more confused; who the hell was Mirai? "He just comes strolling in from the future and everyone drops _everything_ to fall over at his feet. It's not fucking bad enough that they're always hinting that I'm not as _good_ as him, but now he has to come back and shove it in my fucking _face_?"

Ooooh…! I nodded slowly, eyes widening with understanding. "He… I don't think he came back to try and screw with your life, Trunks," I offered hesitantly. "He doesn't even seem to-"

"Oh I _know_, he has no 'memory', we should feel _sorry_ for him and we need to _help_ him, blah de fucking _blah_."

"Uh, well…"

At this moment, I suddenly understood the saying 'rock and a hard place'. Trunks was the freakin' immovable object and I knew that I could placate and plead and whine all I wanted, he wouldn't change his views over the other Trunks at all. I didn't entirely blame him; I could remember times when his parents, especially his dad, would make allusions to him not being 'as good as _him_' and those would be the nights that Trunks was especially worked up ( he either has the most loving or unloving parents in the world considering how many times controllers and systems were busted and replaced under his care ). He never talked about it and I never asked, but it made complete sense that it was his future self they were referring to.

On the other hand, I didn't want my friendship to force me to shun the guy too. We had no idea how long he was going to be here ( Bulma had gone to examine the time machine and had come back looking rather stressed over its condition ) and acting like he was a pariah the entire time would make everything that much _worse_.

"… Just pretend he's not here?" I finally said, shrinking back slightly under the imposing gaze.

Yeah. So. That was Day Two, sitting and listening to the rantings and ravings of Trunks Briefs. I had no time to see or speak to the other Trunks because he was completely Off Limits, and every other time I came over during the ensuing week I ran into the same problem. Trunks would snag me first ( to be fair, I was coming over to study with him ) and an invisible barrier would be set up between us. I ran into the other Trunks once and he started to speak, but the moment he saw him rounding the corner the words dried out and he just mumbled an apology.

It was pathetic and I was going along with it because I could sympathize with Trunks. Always being compared to someone sucked, no matter how good their intentions are.

It was… maybe it wasn't a week later. It was next Friday, so Day Eight? I came over and called out for Trunks, but Bulla came skipping up to me, the world's creepiest mischievous smile on her face. Seriously, little kids – they're fucking _evil_. I'm so glad Videl and Gohan split before they could make their own podling.

"Big Brother's not here right now," she said, giggling softly. I raised a brow and headed toward the kitchen, knowing she would follow along. "He's not gonna be here aaaall niiiight loooong."

"And why not pipsqueak?" I asked, opening the fridge to scan it for anything quick and easy. I wasn't _really_ hungry, but free food is free food.

"Mommy found out that he had lied about his applications to college so Daddy is…" Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial level and she glanced about to make sure no one else was listening. "Daddy took him _training_."

Ah. Bulla was pretty much terrified of the idea of training since all she ever saw was our bloodied bodies when we got back from a session with Vegeta. It suited the prince just fine to have his daughter taking no interest in the sport. And college applications…?

I froze, hand in mid-reach for the orange juice. Oh, _fuck_, Trunks was in _shit_. Bulma had been riding him for months to get out some applications to the best colleges in the country and a few weeks ago he had proudly showed her all the envelopes he was sending out. Too bad, he had told me, there was nothing in them and they were never being mailed. With a few forged rejection letters they would have never known…

"Bulma called to see what the state of her son's application was, didn't she?" I asked. Bulla stared back at me blankly but it really didn't matter – he was going to have his nose rubbed raw with the grindstone for at least a week now and I was stuck alone. "Aww, Trunks, you-" Child present, there was a _child_ present! "-… idiot."

"I take it you're not talking about me?" The rather familiar tenor came from out of nowhere and I jumped, knocking both the orange juice and the milk out of the fridge and to the floor. The cardboard carton crumpled in and started to leak orange blood while the glass bottle shattered, white-stained shrapnel flying out in a circle. My jeans were splattered from the knee down and soaked at the ankles and I did curse then. "Oh, I-"

"No, no, it's fine." It was stupid to feel so stressed over broken glass and I breathed in deep before turning some. Bulla was standing there, blues eyes wide and fearful. "Go wait in the other room, okay? We'll clean up this mess and your mom and dad will never know."

The fear ebbed from her expression as she nodded and skipped out. I sighed and straightened, ready to give Trunks an earful for scaring me, when I realized that it was _Trunks_ and not Trunks. "… oh. Hi." It sounded weak to me and I grimaced before searching around for a towel and a dustpan.

"Hey," he said back, easing into the room as I grabbed a roll of paper towels to start mopping up the liquid. "You might be a bit more successful if you pick up the orange juice…"

Whoops. Guess it would be hard to clean up if something was still leaking. Flushing, I grabbed the carton and stuck my tongue out at him while examining it. It wasn't busted, just leaking from the cap. "Oh, if you're so wise in the ways of hiding messes then what's the fastest way to clean this up?"

"Mop," he said after a moment, crouching down next to me. "You get rid of all the liquid, then you sweep up the glass shards, then you use actual soapy water to make sure there's nothing small left behind and it's not sticky." I blinked, fingers tracing the edge of one of the glass shards, and then nodded. Made sense to me and I had no real idea _what_ to do.

"I'll mop, you can be in charge of glass removal." It was said decisively as I stood and he glanced up at me. "Well, you _did_ cause me to make the mess in the first place."

"Fair enough."

So after a week of being forced to stay away from him, our first real interaction was to clean up the kitchen floor together. Completely and totally _awesome_, can I just say that? It's like we were bonding only we were doing it through the gayest activity possible.

… yeah, that… suddenly makes a lot of sense.

"Bulma and Vegeta are going to notice their missing milk," I gripped while dumping the dirty water into the sink. "Hopefully they'll, uh, blame it on… space… milk thieves."

"… really." It wasn't a question and it really wasn't a statement either. It was more of a 'are you actually going to hope that they'll fall for something so stupid?' but tinged with a 'why yes, I believe you actually would.' I grinned back at him and he looked on curiously. The week had been good to him – he no longer looked like a reject from a bad zombie movie – but he still looked like there was a layer of exhaustion underneath his skin that time couldn't get rid of.

"Well Bulma will probably assume Vegeta or Trunks finished it and Vegeta and Trunks… will be too busy to notice that it's gone. So while space milk thieves would be _awesome_ cause come on, milk thieves in space? We probably don't need to hope for that conclusion."

"… ah."

The guy was so serious and what I was saying was just fucking with his head. You could practically see the little hamsters scurrying as the wheels turned – _is he serious? Is that what they believe now? Did something horrific happen involving milk thieves?_

"Yeah, it's pretty much a bad scene around here. Milk is _scarce_. In fact, just between you and me…" I glanced around a moment, biting on my lower lip fearfully. "I think Vegeta's gotten into _milk dealing_."

His expression was priceless. I guess I would freak out too if I went back in time and discovered that my dad was on the wrong side of the law and it was all because of a dairy product. Still, if it had been anyone else they would have rolled their eyes and swatted me for acting so childish. That he actually _believed_ what I was saying…

"Father… is…" He couldn't quite get the words out and I started to laugh, small smothered giggles that turned into hiccupping guffaws as I tried to keep myself composed. Trunks' expression slipped into one of annoyance as the realization of 'oh, he was just playing' finally sunk in and he huffed. "You're not funny. And you're weird."

"Ha ha. I am _hilarious_ and so what I'm strange?" I flicked some soapy water at him before wiping my hands clean. "Better to be weird and have fun than to be another cookie-cutter and turn into a zombie. Brains are _not_ delicious."

"… oh. Okay." Again with the judgment-laced words. It was _amazing_ how much emotion he could pack into a single-word sentence though, to be fair, I suppose I could come off as a little 'intense' if you're used to a world devoid of humor. "So, um…"

"Look, I'm sorry," I said quickly, giving him a small smile. "I know I've probably been acting like a jackass the past week and it's just that Trunks is really… doesn't know how to act with you being here and what with the whole Best Friend status I have going on I sort of am required to do whatever he wants me to do while he's angsting and everything." The other Trunks blinked, eyes widened slightly as his mouth slowly formed an 'o'. "I'm probably breaking the rules by fraternizing with the enemy right now but he's not going to be back for awhile and I have… nothing else to do?"

"… oh."

"… you, uh, know any other words there, Sparky?"

"Yeah. Wait…" He shook his head, pressing two fingers up against the bridge of his nose. "… Sparky?"

I shrugged and grinned before starting from the room. Bulla had turned the TV on and was entertaining herself with a coloring book – not that she _was_ my responsibility, but I was now in the clear vis-à-vis my obligations of entertaining her. Which was awesome cause while in _private_ playing Pony Princess wasn't such a bad thing, but I didn't really want Trunks – either of them – to know just how good of a Princess Flutterbee I could do. "Yeah, sure, why not?"

"Okay… I mean, that's… different. Not… not what I normally get called." He trailed behind me as I thumped up the steps to Trunks' room and I glanced back at him. "I mean…"

"Jeeze, relax," I said, teeth digging into my lower lip as I watched him fumble for words. "I don't bite, I promise. Unless that's what you _want_ me to- kidding, _kidding_!" I added hastily when he paled slightly.

"Ha… okay." He finally smiled and his entire body posture changed as I kicked the door to Trunks' room open. The bed was unmade, the console cabinet was open with wires sneaking out of every crack, and dirty clothing lined the floor. Kicking a shirt to the side, I sat on the bed and dropped my backpack next to me. "You guys spend all your time in here?"

"Eh, it's not normally this bad," I said in Trunks' defense as I glanced about the room. A few dirty dishes were poking out from under the bed, half-hidden by the bed-skirt, and old school papers were spilling out from a tossed folder. "I guess Vegeta just caught him by surprise and he wasn't able to clean up before I got here."

"And is he going to care if I'm here?"

"Oh he's going to be _pissed_," I said matter-of-factly and Trunks blanched. "Really? Aren't you some big-time fighter? You're scared of what _Trunks_ is going to do to you?"

"No," he admitted, picking his way carefully through the mess to stand by the side of the bed. "I'm not afraid he would hurt me. I'm just afraid of causing more trouble here than I already have. He has every right to be upset with me for coming back, especially since I can't remember."

"Huh." I blinked and allowed my eyes to track a path across the room as I sorted through his jumbled confession. Everyone had been jumping to Trunks' ( _Mirai's_ ) defense and had been trying to cram tolerance down Trunks' throat. Even I was feeling more than a bit nauseated at his behavior and now here was the victim standing here and saying that 'oh guys, I don't know if you got the memo but _I'm the jackass_.' "That's an awful… I mean, just cause it's causing problems for him doesn't mean you should just roll over and accept being treated like crap."

"But it's a little more complicated than that," he said, smiling softly as he hesitantly took a seat next to me. His weight shifted the bed and I leaned toward him, twisting about to make the position more natural. "This isn't my world and I don't want to take his place. No one can force him to see or accept that until he's ready to and I'm… I understand."

"Well what does your memory have to do with it?"

He smiled faded at that and he looked down. "I still don't remember why I came back. What if it was because there's something that needs to be done, a threat that's going to wipe out the earth? Or what if it's just because I felt selfish and wanted to live in a world that was whole again? I'm either sitting here, wasting valuable time because I can't remember, or I'm stepping into his territory because I couldn't handle my own anymore."

"… wow. And I thought high-school was a bitch." That earned me the return of the smile and a soft laugh, a sound that reminded me more of a sob than anything else. He wasn't crying, though, and didn't look like he was about to start. "Maybe you just… had to come back. You're only looking at options A and B but there's still option C."

"Option C," Trunks repeated, looking amused. "That I had to return. Because…?"

"Well…" Look, I'm not _dumb_, okay? The guy was freaking the fuck _out_ cause he couldn't get to Bulma and was willing to risk his own life to find her – I'm going to guess that something happened to her. But I just couldn't bring myself to say that. For some reason I doubted he was stupid either and he was just clinging to the hope of the other situations so that she would be okay. "… maybe there was a virus manufactured and released that only affected those who had saiyan blood. So you had to leave or else you would die."

"… sounds reasonably plausible, but wouldn't Mother be able to check to see if I had been exposed to some sort of deadly antigen?"

"Not so. If you had been exposed you would be _dead_ and if you had it and you came back you would end up killing all of us." I rolled my eyes before smacking my hand down on the bedcovers. "See? It settles it. You were sent back to avoid a deadly death plague. It's completely not your fault at all that you're here."

His mouth opened once, twice to try to argue against my logic but all Trunks could do was stare and laugh as I nodded so self-assuredly. "Okay, okay," he finally said, shaking his head. "So maybe there are some reasons why I would come back that would… justify it. But I still need to remember to be sure that they're the _real_ reasons," he pointed out.

I shrugged. "So? You have the rest of your life to worry about that. Right now you should be worrying about what you want to do with your life. Professional laz-e-teer sounds great on paper but it really sucks after the first year or so."

"I think I could use some lazing about for a few months or so. Besides, I don't think I have any real marketable skills or that I'm market_able_. I'm sure if I actually end up staying Mother would fix everything but I'm just sort of…"

"Floating in society?" I finished. Trunks shrugged before nodding. "Yeah, that would be the problem. Unless you wanted to flip burgers but I kind of can't see you doing that?"

"Yeah, that… so what about you?" He glanced over at me, blue eyes bright. "You have to have concrete plans for the future."

"I…"

So something really interesting happened. That question was something I was used to hearing – I was seventeen, a junior in high school, and everyone wanted to know what I was going to do once I graduated. Which was kind of awesome except it wasn't so much they wanted to know _what_ I was going to do as much as they wanted to know _who_ I was going to follow. Was I going to end up like my dad and leech off of everyone? The idea I could become _successful_ like Gohan had been scratched out of everyone's mind and, I'll admit, it was kind of a self-fulfilling prophecy. No one believed I could be that smart so I just never tried. Bulma, I knew, was expecting me to wind up with her son and somehow end up being part of the Capsule Corp.

I love Trunks. He's like a brother. _I do not love my brothers in that way._

"I want to… be a professional dancer," I said, shrugging my shoulders as the first answer popped into my head. The idea was ridiculous – me on stage wearing one of those jeans-and-too-small-shirt outfits bumping and grinding to a song that talked about nothing but sex while some slutty pre-teen pranced around lip-syncing to it. Ha, uh, _no thank you_.

But instead of realizing I was joking he nodded thoughtfully. "I think you'd be very good at that." I gaped and stared as he looked back at me, his expression dead-pan and serious. "I'm sure you have the necessary body coordination and flexibility to handle it. It's not a bad career option."

Trunks – my Trunks – always gets this little twitch along the corner of his mouth whenever he's messing with me and trying not to laugh. As I just gaped like a land-bound fish Trunks stared back, composure perfect, until that one _twitch_-

"You're fucking with me!" I said ( well, maybe more like shrieked ) and he grinned widely. "You… that… I wasn't being serious! I don't even know _how_ to dance. Oh… you… oh…"

"Well, take some dance lessons," he offered helpfully and I glared up at him. "Live the dream Goten. Reach out of the stars."

"Oh, yeah. Livin' the dream." I rolled my eyes before sneering at him and jabbing a finger toward his chest. "I _will_ take dance lessons and you _will_ go with me to them. And you _will_ rue this day. Rue it!"

"Sounds like a date." I couldn't help but stick my tongue out at him and cross my arms, sulking."Okay, okay. What is it that you _really_ want to do?"

A rather relaxed mood had wormed its way around us during that brief interlude, but I still found myself stiffening at the question. _What do I want?_ I didn't want another repeat, another incident where I sat there and blindly admitted that I had no idea. "I… I know how things work," I said after a moment. "Like, I don't understand _why_ they work, electronics and machines, but I know _how_ and I can fix them. Bulma's had me help her a few times. But I don't think… anymore just knowing isn't good enough. I have to understand but I just… Understanding isn't important."

Silence stretched out between us, awkward and heavy and full of words that neither one of us wanted to say. It was kind of a rather large personal confession I had just made and I had a feeling Trunks' could sense that from the way he worried his lower lip, brow slowly contracting as he stared at some invisible pin-prick in the distance. What do you say when a stranger just opens their heart to you?

Nothing. You say nothing because it's a fucking _stranger_ and if they're whispering out their deepest, darkest secrets there's a good chance they plan on killing you. You _run_, that is what you do, you run and you get _help_.

Slipping off the bed, I turned on my heel so that I was facing him before holding my hand out. Trunks glanced up and stared at me, gaze going from my face to my hand as he tried to work out what I wanted. After a moment the not-quite-rocket-science seemed to sink in and he grasped it, standing as well.

And then made this completely awesome half-cry, half-grunt of shock when I pulled in him close, toe-to-toe and nose-to-nose. He began to color, red spreading across his cheeks as he tried to stammer out a question, but it all stopped when I grinned and grabbed his right hand, placing it on my shoulder. The confusion was slowly fading as I placed my left hand on his side, our other hands still clasped tightly. "… are you serious?"

"You told me I would make a good dancer," I responded innocently. He groaned and tilted his head forward, lavender locks brushing along the edge of my shoulder, and started to truly laugh as I stepped back. "I just wanted to see if it was true."

"Goten," he groaned out, following along as I clumsily dodged the books and clothing on the floor. "We don't have music. You're assuming I'm the girl? This dance is boring. And neither one of us knows what we're doing."

"True," I agreed. "But if we don't practice how are we going to be the head of the class?"

"Goten there is something _wrong_ with you."

I would have agreed if I hadn't stepped on the edge of a hardback book. The spine cracked and slid under my weight and I wind-milled back. Trunks started to slip forward before he let me go and I landed hard on my ass, the reverberations sending shocks through my back. "Oh, ow. _Ow._"

He shook his head and leaned forward, hand stretched out for me. "You big baby. Serves you right for being so weird."

"No sympathy at all. My dance career might have just been cut _short_ and you _mock _me?"

"If only we should be so lucky."

"Everyone's a critic," I griped as I pushed myself to my feet, ignoring his hand. "Come on, Bulla's probably about done with her coloring by now. Let's find some child-appropriate-with-adult-humor movie and watch it while she's entertained with the pretty pictures."


	4. Shopping Spree

AN: This chapter was a pain in the ass to write for unknown reasons. If I were to have a 'bloopers' or 'deleted scenes' section there would be several from this chapter, mostly revolving around the beginning scene and Mirai's interactions with Gohan. I'm fairly pleased with the outcome, though – it accomplished everything I wanted.

Right now my plan is to continue on alternating between Goten and Mirai, but I also have a side-story involving Gohan and Trunks in mind. So the question is – stick with the current plan, or add in a few chapters from Gohan and Trunks' POV?

Finally, another thanks to everyone who favorited and/or alerted this story and another HUGE thanks to Rayne. Your comments inspire me to push myself harder for this story while simultaneously petrifying me with the belief that I'll fall flat with the next addition. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint!

* * *

**im****age**: (n) A physical likeness or representation of a person, animal, or thing, photographed, painted, sculptured, or otherwise made visible.

A counterpart; copy: _That child is the image of his mother._

**Synonyms**: Representation, _facsimile. _

**Antonyms**: _Original_.

* * *

"_A toast?" The glass was thin, bending and cracking under the impossible pressure of my grasp. I smiled and shifted my fingers, struggling to hold it casually and loosely, but my hand wanted to clench shut, a fist more comfortable than a hold around a fluted wine glass. _

"_A toast," she responded, and the vivid smile made something constrict in my chest. It had been so long – so damn __**long**__ – since I had seen that and I would give anything to make sure it wasn't going away again. "To… victory? To peace. To completion."_

"_To hope," I said, and her smile widened as we both lifted our hands, glass clinking gently as the amber liquid swirled about. It caught my eye and my fingers jerked, squeezing too hard, and the stem shattered. The bowl hovered in the air for a moment before falling ever so slowly and shattered, glass and wine exploding with a deafening roar. I stared, dumbfounding, as she screamed in pain and horror as amber engulfed her, darkening to a deep crimson as it wrapped about her, swallowed her whole. _

"_Trunks." _

_No. The glass was crackling under my feet, heat causing it to hiss as the edges slowly started to melt away. _

"_Trunks!"_

_There was more urgency in her tone and I turned away, wanting to hide my face. __**No**__. _

"Trunks, come _on_."

A hand was on my shoulder, shaking me, and my eyes snapped open. For a moment I laid there, staring blankly at the off-white wall as Goten gently nudged me awaked. He tilted his head to the side, hands resting on my side as he leaned over to peer at me. I flicked my gaze upward, far too aware far too soon, and he smiled. "You sleep like the _dead_, did you know that?" he said lightly, and my expression darkened. "Bulma wants you downstairs so come on."

With that he squeezed my shoulder before leaving, giving me plenty of time to be alone with my own thoughts.

Groaning, I waited several moments before sitting up and running a hand back through my hair. It was Sunday – that was why Goten was here instead of at his own house. Even with Trunks ( the _other_ Trunks ) being grounded the younger Son son still spent the majority of his free time at the Briefs household, something I was still adjusting to. Not that I wasn't… Well, he certainly was _different _to be around, that was for sure, and I was still on the fence over whether that was a good thing.

I missed Gohan. I wasn't entirely sure which Gohan I missed, but the older of the Son's had been too busy with his work to make an appearance over the past week and a half. Whether that was a good or a bad thing I wasn't sure – by now he would be roughly the same age as _my _Gohan. Losing him once had been bad enough…

I frowned as I slipped out of bed before shaking my head. There was no point dwelling on it; when – _if_ – that issue came up I would deal with it. It was the same policy I was taking with my memories ( and the same policy I took with my nightmares ). Panicking and analyzing them with a fine-tooth comb twenty-four-seven would get me no-where. I was here, I was stuck, and nothing was going to change by fretting endlessly over everything I couldn't change.

Like fretting over my clothing situation. Pulling open my dresser, I grimaced at the selection: a pair of jeans and three t-shirts. Mother had scrounged up all she could for me, trying to find everything from the last time I was here and any of Trunks' clothing that would fit me, but I was _just_ tall enough to make his clothing too small to fit. Goten had come to the rescue but even I could tell that the teen didn't exactly have an excessive wardrobe to go and give out to strangers.

I mean, that's all I was to him – a stranger.

Pulling on a green-and-white long-sleeved shirt that had seen better days and a ratty pair of jeans, I ran my hand through my hair again before leaving my room and bounding down the stairs to the kitchen. I could smell food cooking and my stomach grumbled in response, reminding me that I hadn't eaten since dinner last night. Smiling, I stepped off the landing and turned the corner, prepared to greet Mother and Goten.

Both _were_ there, Mother at the stove whipping up a large batch of pancakes while Goten was at the table happily wolfing down a large stack. Trunks was there as well, sullenly picking at his own plate. My greeting died slightly seeing him – he looked irritable enough already, his face a brilliant array of blues, purples, and green, and I didn't want to add fuel to the fire – but it was the third individual sitting at the table that caused my voice to freeze in my throat.

Gohan. _Speak of the devil…_

"Oi, Trunks!" Goten glanced up, eyes tearing away from his food as he heard my footsteps, and a smile forced its way on my face out of habit. He lifted an arm and waved enthusiastically, gesturing for me to come over, and I shook my head while laughing softly. After I moment I stepped over, heading toward the eager teen while keeping my eyes on the older Son. "Took you long enough to get down here."

"Sorry I took so long," I said dryly, taking a seat between the two. "Gohan," I added after a moment, nodding curtly in acknowledgment. He gave a nod in response and Trunks rolled his eyes, stabbing rather violently at his plate as he rolled his eyes.

Before I could even glance up toward the range a stack of something warm and sweet was unceremoniously dropped onto the table in front of me, a bottle of syrup following suit. Flicking my eyes up, I smiled at Mother as she wiped her hands on the front of her jeans before chiding Trunks gently, tapping the back of his head lightly as he sunk further down into his seat. "Eat up," she said cheerful, flashing me a bright smile as she stepped away. "You have a long day ahead of you."

"Oh?" Forgoing the syrup – I wasn't a fan of sweets – I cut into the pancakes with the side of my fork, my eyes trained on Mother's back the entire time. She nodded in response, shoulders rotating in time with the bobbing of her head.

"Mmhmm. I'm not giving up on fixing the time machine," she said hastily, twisting about to glance almost guiltily at me, "but… it's been a week and a half Mirai. Maybe I'll get it tomorrow but maybe it'll take another month. Either way I think it's about time you stretch your legs, so to speak, and get out a little more."

I would have responded but a mouthful of buttery pancake would have made it a little rude. I nodded, gaze drifting back to the table. Trunks was sulking, casting angry looks at Mother in between glaring at his plate and gazing hatefully at Goten. Goten, for his part, seemed oblivious of the loathing thrown at him and was grinning almost stupidly at me while Gohan was sitting in a far more dignified matter on my other side, his head tilted slighted to stare at his younger brother while a low exasperated sigh escaped his lips.

"Gohan offered to come over to help out," she continued on, turning back to give her full attention to the baking goods. "Bulla has some appointments I can't reschedule or else I would go along too but I trust his judgment. You know, for clothing and all that." She made a gesture along her hairline, scissoring her fingers together, and I choked for a moment before grabbing for a glass of water. _Seriously?_

"Well I don't see why I have to go," Trunks said suddenly, looking up from his plate. Mother let out a rather worn sigh, making it obvious that this conversation had occurred repeatedly in various forms. "I don't think I'm going to be of any help in any of those departments."

"Well they can use you as a model of what _not_ to do," she snapped and I winced, ducking my head down. "You're still grounded mister. Your father and I both need to go out for a few hours today. Maybe if we could trust you to behave yourself alone we could leave you here but as of now you have to be babysat by Gohan." He cursed, dropping his fork on his plate before shoving his chair back roughly and getting up. "Don't you walk away from this – Trunks Vegeta Briefs, you get back here right _now!_"

He ignored her, muttering something rather crude under his breath as he stormed up the stairs, and she sighed again. Gohan frowned before glancing over at her, dark eyes narrowing slightly with worry. "Bulma," he said after a moment. "I'm sure Mirai can handle everything on his own. I can stay here with Trunks and Goten could just help him with finding anything he's not familiar with if that would be easier."

"Maybe," Mother responded in a rather distracted tone. "I just don't _get_ that boy. Honestly, this wasn't supposed to be a punishment – I thought he would be so happy to have a chance to get out of the house. But everything we decide for him to do lately is just the wrong thing…"

"He just needs some time to himself," Goten said, the statement destroying the illusion that he was all but oblivious to the situation as he shrugged and pushed his dirty plate away. "I think Gohan has a pretty decent idea. Trunks and I – you know, _Future_ Trunks," he said, grinning evilly as I rolled my eyes ( Bulla's nickname for me amused him to no end ). "We can just go together. You guys are harping on him all the time though. Sure he made a pretty serious mistake and yeah I'd be pretty pissed too-"

"Should I ignore the fact that you _knew_ my son was lying to me?" Mother asked, one hand cocked against her hip as she turned about to face us. Goten blanched and Gohan grinned wickedly as the younger Son hemmed for a moment, rubbing his neck as he glanced away in embarrassment.

"Uh, well, you know. I would have told you if that wouldn't have been in violation of our _friend_ bond and, well, you know. A guy has to have someone he can trust."

"Uh-huh." Mother quirked a brow, the edges of her mouth lifting into an amused smile despite herself. "I think I'm getting your point though. He did something wrong and we need to punish him but we need to give him a little space too. Duly noted. All right, Gohan, you're officially on Trunks Watch today."

Gohan nodded and gave her a mocking salute while I frowned next to him, glancing down at the table. Don't get me wrong – I was happy that everything had worked out for the best and that Trunks was going to be taken care of ( and that, to be honest, he wasn't going to be with us – I know I wasn't really giving him the benefit of the doubt but all I had seen of him was a bratty spoiled child ) but I was also wishing that it didn't have to involve Gohan going away. I mean, not that Goten was _bad_ or anything or that there was anything _wrong_ with him…

I just…

Goten wasn't bad. But he wasn't Gohan.

Which wasn't a bad thing.

Something jostled me, disrupting my confusing line of thoughts, and I twisted in my seat before standing up. I was only half-done but my appetite was gone, the nervousness and anxiousness over the rest of the day replacing it with a pit of lead. Goten grinned at me, clapping his hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry Trunks," he said. "You'll be dressing _fly_ after today, don't you worry."

"Uh… On second thought, Gohan…"

Everyone burst into laughter and I couldn't help but grin at Mother's off-hand comment. "I _think_ I'll have enough sense to protect myself from that," I said quickly. "Everything he suggests, go for the opposite, right?"

"Hey! Come on, everyone's always picking on me…"

Mother smiled, stacking some of the dirty plates on the table before pausing a moment to slid her wallet from her pocket. Flipping it open, she slipped out a silver card and handed it to me. "Unless you decide to buy out an entire store there's no way you're going to hit the limit. Any problems, give me a call."

"Yes Ma'am," Goten said, giving her a salute before grabbing my arm. I stared at the card for a moment while stepping back, amazed at the _wealth _that was just so casually handed to me. Money wasn't something we worried about in my own time, but that was more because no one _had_ any money _to _worry about. Those who did knew better than to try to squeeze blood from a rock, or so to speak.

We stepped outside into the crisp air and I smiled, pocketing the card. It was early October and the leaves were just starting to turn, orange and red highlighting some of the still-stubborn green that clung to the trees. There was a small chuckle beside me and I glanced over; Goten was fishing something out of his pocket and, after finding it, he grinned and held up a small capsule. "Ready to roll?"

"Yeah." There was a 'pop' and a flash and a plane appeared, more than large enough for both of us to fit in with room for bags in the back. Of course it was meant for two other passengers as well, but I still marveled as I eased into the passenger seat. "More than ready. I think I'm starting to go a little stir-crazy around here."

"Yeah, well, one week of non-stop Briefs will do that to you," he remarked idly, looking up to check on the flight diagnostics before engaging the auto-pilot. "You know how to fly, right?"

"Huh? Yeah, of course."

"You don't have to sit back and let everyone else take control, then." I blinked, confused, as the plane lifted off from the ground. "You know how to run your own life. Why are you even still staying here?"

"Here? You mean with my family?" Goten shrugged, his expression curiously unreadable.

"Sure, if you want to call it that." I opened my mouth to interrupt but he continued blithely on. "I've heard the stories, I know you could go and live on your own easily. I mean, it wouldn't be as easy as living with a bunch of people who want to wait on you hand and foot but at some point that has to become-"

"Old," I finished, nodding. "I know. I don't… I don't know what I'm doing Goten."

"Without some sort of world-threatening monster to focus on it sort of gives you a bit too much freedom, huh?" he remarked idly. I sucked on my lower lip before nodding in agreement. _Way_ too much freedom – and this was ignoring the fact that I still had no idea _why_ I was even here.

"Well, no point dwelling on such things." Goten's tone changed abruptly as he jerked the plane to the side. I grimaced and braced myself, hands and knees jammed against the sidedoor, to keep from slipping. "We're free for the day. No annoying Gohan, we don't have to worry about Bulla or Trunks, and we have an unlimited spending limit. Let's go crazy. Paint the town red or some shit."

"I remember Orange City being kind of big," I remarked wryly. "That would take an awful lot of paint and I think they'd be a little upset since it's not called 'Red City.'"

"Ha! Ha ha! A _joke_! You are so funny Trunks. Just a laugh an hour." He drummed his fingers along the console before looking at me. "Seriously, you're hilarious and all, but try to control yourself. The natives won't know what hit them."

"You're such a freak." The words just rolled out as I shook my head. Goten stuck his tongue out in response.

"Maybe. To the mall!"

I braced myself again, making a mental note to grab the wheel from Goten on the way home – flying a plane the same way you would fly sans vehicle was ridiculous. Honestly, if this was how he flew normally I would probably still feel the same trepidation around him. It was amazing we were still in the air; I didn't know you could _make_ such sharp turns in a plane.

There was a rather sharp jolt as we landed on an empty stretch of pavement and I turned to glare at the sheepish Son. He grinned, rubbing the back of his neck, before shrugging. "Any landing you can walk away from, right?" he said and I rolled my eyes before stepping down. There was a momentary stumble as I regained my orientation – apparently the flying ( or, with the way Goten had gone, _lack of it_ ) had messed my balance up more than I thought possible. Another 'pop' and the plane vanished back inside its capsule, secure in Goten's hand.

"Give me that," I muttered, snatching it from his open palm as he grinned. "You are so not flying us home. And why do we even have to bother with this?" I asked, slipping it inside my pocket.

"Well, despite everything that happened with Cell and Buu-"

"Buu?"

"Uh, yeah. I'll explain that but, you know, another evil megalomaniac who wanted to destroy the world. Anyway, people still aren't really used to seeing people flying around and throwing energy around like it's something normal. Cause it isn't, really." He shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets. "At tournaments we try to keep from showing _too_ much power but it's also a different audience there so it's not as much of a taboo-breaker if we slip up. Plus, I'm fairly certain Bulma expects us to get enough to fill up a wardrobe for you and we _could_ fly back and carry all that but it would be a ton easier if we just loaded it into the plane and flew back that way."

"True… okay, so, you're supposed to be my guide right now, much as that thought frightens me." He made another face as we walked slowly toward the large building. I had thought my ( their? ) home was impressive – the domed private capsule corp. buildings would have easily fit inside the several-story tall skyscrapers that towered before us. "Because I will… step inside and be lost within moments."

"It's not that bad," Goten assured as we stepped up to a set of large glass doors. Pushing them open, he continued: "The third floor is pretty much were all of the men's clothing is, though fifth is where we need to stop first. Haircut, remember?"

"Just the entire third floor, huh?" I said, sarcasm dripping from my tone. "And no, unless you've decided you want to lop off that spikey 'do there's no reason to visit the stylist."

"But Bulma said-"

"I know what Mother said. I was sitting there. I'm just going to ignore that bit of advice from her."

Goten stared at me, looking a bit flummoxed, as I pushed back him into the crowded mall. "But… But, Trunks, you looked like a confused sheepdog half the time," he finally got out and I paused, glancing back at him. To emphasis his point he took a hold of two chunks of his hair, pulling them down to cover his eyes. "Really. It's ridiculous."

"You're not one to speak," I said defensively, brushing my hair back from my face as I flushed. "You look like you stuck a fork in an outlet and decided that going to be your look du-jour. For the year. And ever."

"Yeah, that one was smooth." Goten shook his head. "Your funeral, not mine. But I'm not going to have your back when Bulma rains her fury down on you demanding to know why you still look like… like…"

"A confused sheepdog?" I offered helpfully, and he nodded.

"That's right. A confused sheepdog. At least try to… I mean, how can you even see? Is that part of your training, learning to move without sight?"

"Oh ha ha shut up," I grumbled, shoving him forward and toward the escalator.

Large gatherings of people weren't really… a good idea in my time. The androids had a tendency to go from city to city, picking off the biggest building only after scaring the inhabitants of the city into it. Going through the wreckage was an exercise in stomach strength; the stench of the dead bodies alone was difficult enough to bear, especially when the days grew hot and they were pinned between rubble and trapped under twisted metal. Putrification would set in quickly then and, on top of the gag-inducing odor, the bodies wouldn't be found simply whole, or even torn and rendered from the incident.

It became mandatory for everyone to get a complete dental X-ray every year until they turned eighteen. It was often the only way we could identify their bodies.

As we reached the third floor I flinched, shoulders tensing and chest tightening as my body braced itself for the inevitable as the mall opened up before us. Throngs of people milled about, teens chatting animatedly in groups while older couples strolled leisurely along; parents chased after their children and toddlers screamed in strollers. It was a cacophony of noise and all of it was full of _life_. No one was screaming in pain or crying for help or begging for mercy or-

"Are… you okay?" A hand grazed along the back of my neck and I flinched violently. Goten jerked his hand back, biting down on his lower lip, and I wanted to kick myself for my knee-jerk reaction. "Sorry, you just sort of-"

"No, no, it's okay," I mumbled. "Let's do this fast. The sooner we get this part done the sooner we can go hang out someplace-" _quieter_ "-more… secluded before going back home." It came out a bit wrong, but as long as it meant we got out of _here_…

Goten brightened, smiling crookedly before grabbing my arm and pulling me along behind him. "Don't worry, shopping's a breeze with me," he assured me, making a small gesture with his free hand. "I mean, all we need to go is figure out your pants size and shirt size and then just get lots of the same thing in different colors."

I didn't really _mean_ to have the reaction I did to that statement, but I suddenly wished again that maybe Gohan had been the one to come along instead of Goten. My brows drew up, knitting together, and I didn't even realize that I was lowly letting out a rather terse 'eh' for a moment. "… well, yes, that is… one way of doing it."

"Don't tell me your one of 'those' people." He made a face while hooking his fingers in the air to emphasis the word 'those'. "I would have thought that you would be safe."

"I… honestly don't know what you mean by those people."

"You know, the ones that take forever to shop because you have to try everything on and you have to go to every store to make sure you're getting the best price, the best fit, yadda yadda yadda, the end."

I shook my head as he made a vague hand gesture, thumb and forefingers of his right hand clapping together. "Well, um… no. I just don't want to get eight copies of the same shirt."

"… fair enough."

It was a far less painful process than I had predicted it would be – Goten shied away from the higher-end stores, the places that I guessed Mother would have preferred me to purchase my shiny new clothing, but he certainly knew his way around several of the lower-end and more comfortable selections. A few pairs of jeans, one seat of dress pants and one khaki, along with a wide variety of both long and short-sleeved tees with a few button-up dress shirts thrown in the mix. Nothing incredibly fancy, but I wasn't used to fancy and I didn't want to dress up just to fit the part.

And Goten had gotten me thinking. He was right – why _was_ I staying there ( besides the obvious reasons of 'I had no other place to go' and 'I had no money' )? Maybe it was time to consider leaving instead of just pretending I truly was just another Briefs child.

"All right, so…" We walked from the last stores, bags being awkwardly juggled in Goten's arms as I stared and tried not to giggle. "We have everything, right?"

"I think I have more than enough to last me," I said, nodding.

"Good." He smiled and suddenly thrust his hands out, dumping the bags into my arms. It was unexpected and I stumbled from the sudden weight increase. "Go put these in the plane and then meet me back at the food court."

"W-what?" I sputtered, shifting them around to see him better. "Why me? I barely know my way around this place!"

"And I'm just asking you to go outside – which is just down the escalator and through the door – and bring up the plane." Goten squeezed my shoulder, his smile growing. "Food court's on the second floor – you can't miss it. I'll be waiting for you there. Getting us food and all that. I would tell _you_ to go but…"

I flushed and hissed something under my breath, insinuating that his father wasn't _really_ his father, before twisting about and stomping toward the escalator. At the first store I had tried to pay for the clothing; credit cards were simple, right? Pay and you go. Except this one apparently required a Ph. D. in _screw you Mother_ because three complex passcodes later and I was standing there dumbfounded while Goten was smiling all sweet and sugary and covering for my total screw-up. How he knew the secrets to unlocking her tangled mind while I didn't was a mystery ( that could probably be solved by the fact that he had known her for seventeen more years that I ) but it still meant that only he could use the card.

And he was making sure I knew it. _Jerk_.

Stepping off the stairs at the bottom, I paused for a moment as a wave of dizziness rushed over me. Leaning over, I tilted my head to the side while waiting for the blood to pump back to my head; all the noise around me was starting to turn hazy, bouncing in and out of focus in rhythm with my heart beat. Annoying and distracting but nothing worrisome until my vision started to blur, the edges laced in black and red.

_Mother was standing in front of a group of people, employees of the Garrison Building. They were all smiling and laughing, hands raised to a toast. _

"What?" I spun around, gaping at a group of passing teenage girls. They skirted away from me, the closet one gripping the sleeve of her friend before they all burst out in nervous laughter and hurried away.

_An alarm went off, red lights bleeding across the features of all present. Someone jostled Mother and the glass slipped from her hand, shattering on the floor. _

I pressed a hand to my forehead and tried to breathe evenly.

_Something exploded, hot air slamming into all of them, and Mother was thrown back across the metal catwalk as the glass was melted by the sudden wave of heat._

"No!"

"And do you mind telling me just _what_ I did wrong?"

I opened my eyes – I wasn't even aware that I had closed them – to find myself staring down at a rather annoyed-looking red-head. She was five two, maybe five three, had bright green eyes to match the vivid red, and had something that looked cold on top of being blue and wet dripping down the front of her shirt. A half-empty and crushed plastic cup was in her hand and, glancing down, I saw traces of the same substances on one of my plastic bags.

Oh. _Whoops. _"I… I am so sorry…"

"Yeah, damn straight you're sorry." She stared at the cup for a moment, looking slightly forlorn, before glancing back at me and scowling. "You owe me a new drink _and_ a new shirt."

"Oh… okay, well-"

"This stuff stains. Don't try to tell me you'll just pay for dry cleaning because you can but it'll just be a waste of money. This shirt will never be the same."

"That's fine but-"

"And don't even try to tell me that you don't have the money. Just look at you," she said, gaze running over the evidence of my shopping spree. "You're loaded. You can afford one measly shirt."

"Okay," I said quickly, hoping to cut her off. "That's fine. That's all fine. But, right now, I have to go put these out in my…. car. And _after_ I do that I can go get you your…. drink and shirt. Is that a fair deal?"

Giving her drink one last slurp, the woman tossed the ruined plastic cup into a nearby trash can before placing her hands on her hips. "Hei," she said abruptly, chin lifted to stare at me expectantly.

"… excuse me?"

"Hei. It's my name. Customarily people respond with theirs after one's given."

"Oh. Uh…" I paused a moment, a quick mental debate over whether to be Trunks or Mirai occurring. She was a stranger – a _stranger_ – but… "I'm… Trunks." She quirked a brow and I sighed; that was the reaction I was afraid of. "Not _that_ Trunks."

"Well of course not," she said blithely. "You're too old. And your terms are acceptable," Hei continued on. "I'll just walk with you to your car."

"Oh. Oh, you really don't have to-"

"No," Hei interrupted, smiling sweetly. "I don't. But I also don't want you running off while you owe me a drink and a new shirt, now do I?"

I opened my mouth to respond and she just tilted her head to the side, waiting expectantly. "I… I guess that's okay." Sucking on my upper lip, I turned and walked to the doors, pushing them open with my shoulder while she followed in suit, the sickly sweet smile still plastered on her face. "My car's just on the other side of the…" _Crap._ Well, this was going to be awkward.

"I don't mind walking." She shrugged and I sighed as I tried to run through reasonable explanations. It seemed like most people actually used regular cars, or maybe hovers, and as fantastic and useful as capsules were most people didn't seem to just whip them out of their pockets and produce full-size aircrafts.

I could break into a car. No door lock would be able to stop me. The _alarm_ system would probably give me away but I could just pretend I forgot how to turn it off…

"So what was going on back in there?" I blinked and glanced over at her. Hei was looking over at me, green eyes wide with curiosity, and as our gazes met she gave a little shrug. "You know, the whole freak out and scare the small children thing you had going on. Not that I _don't_ enjoy a good horror show, but Halloween's not for another couple weeks."

"I wasn't… I was?" I asked, feeling myself blush again ( it was starting to become a _trend_ ) as she nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah. Full on, twisting around, shouting at people… security may have been alerted. So. What's the deal?"

"I just… cannot find my car." Dropping my hands down, I turned away from her and let out a frustrated sigh. "We parked right _here_ and now-"

"No you didn't." Hei arched a brow, arms crossed over her chest. "You're deflecting to try to change the subject."

"Oh really?"

"If you had really lost your car you would be panicking a bit more _and_ you just told me with that statement," she pointed out, lifting one hand to shaking her finger at me. "Did you even come here in a car? But more importantly, the freak out?"

"I thought you just wanted a free shirt." Growing more annoyed with her attitude, I threw caution to the wind and took out the capsule, popping the plane out. Hei's eyes widened but she remained calm as I stepped in to toss the bags onto the seats in the back. "Right, so, I was _lying_. Are you happy? Is there a reason you're going up to a stranger and interrogating them?"

Hei shrugged. "Well, when that stranger slammed a full blue-raspberry slushy down the front of my shirt, I'd say I have reason." I scowled, recapsulizing the plane, and she grinned. "Besides, you really _were_ freaking out back there. Call it sick curiosity but I want to know. Walking nightmare?"

"You could say that," I mumbled, shoving my hand into my pocket. "I just… I don't really like being around a lot of people."

She nodded and made a 'hmm'ing noise, acting like she understood what I was saying, moreso than even I did. I scowled, angry, and started back toward the mall. "Hey, wait-"

"Yeah, I _know_, your shirt," I said, angrier than I originally meant. Immediately after I winced and turned back to her, hands held up to keep her from interrupting. "I… I'm sorry, I'm just having a-"

"Here." Hei was in front of me, eyes staring up into my own, and her right hand was bent out from her chest with a small slip of paper held between her fore and middle finger. After a moment of hesitation I gingerly picked it out and unfolded it. "It's my number. You should call me sometime."

"… your number?" I folded it back up and frowned. "You're giving me your number?"

"Consider that a fair trade for the ruined shirt, but only if you call me." Hei smiled, a rather tight expression, before reaching up to clap me on the shoulder. "I'll see you later Trunks." She gave my shoulder another pat before slipping away, weaving through the throngs of cars to disappear into the parking lot.

_Phone number._ "Right." Putting it into my pocket, I made a face when I remembered that Goten was waiting for me – impatiently and worriedly at this point – back in the mall. Spinning on my heel I sprinted back inside, ignoring the looks shot my way from the individuals who had been there for my 'freak out', as Hei put it. The teenage girls were still there, stepping out of a small eyewear shop, and they all paused to titter amongst themselves as I passed.

Fan_tastic_.

"Trunks? Oi, hey, Trunks!" I paused a moment once off at the second floor and smiled as I heard Goten shouting for me. In my mind I pictured him, stretched up and waving to catch my attention. Sure enough, when I straightened and looked over he was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, one hand waving energetically in the air. "Over here!"

"Heh, Goten." Walking over, I smiled and slid down into one of the plastic chairs surrounding a tiny square table. "Sorry to keep you waiting. I got tied up."

"Dropping the clothing off? What happened?" He sat down as well, pushing a tray with a few burgers and two large drinks toward me. I grabbed one of the cups and took a long sip, grimacing at the overly-sweet taste of coke.

"I ran into a girl." Goten gaped and I shrugged, deciding against adding in the parts about how I lost my mind in the middle of the crowd. "She walked me to the plane and gave me her number."

"Ah… oh." I had thought he would laugh or quiz me about it – _a __**girl**__, Trunks? What was she __**like**__? _– but the teen seemed to deflate in front of me, shoulders slumping and head tilting forward some. "Sounds like you had fun."

"… she was kind of creepy. Like, just came up out of no where and just shoved the number into my hand without asking."

"Oh." He blinked and looked up at me. "You didn't ask her for it? She just gave it to you?"

"Yeah. I didn't know what to do – can you just refuse it when someone does that?" I shook my head before snagging a fry. "Really, I just took it because I was too confused to do otherwise."

"Aww, did the scary lady scare poor Trunks?" Goten teased, grinning again. I rolled my eyes and threw the fry at him.

"Shut up and eat so we can get out of here. I'm a little tired of being inside."


	5. Interlude I: Trunks Briefs

AN: I apologize for the lateness of the chapter. The _extreme_ lateness. Between last semester suddenly kicking my ass, and my attempts to be less anti-social, fanfic writing did get pushed down on the list of Things To Do…

And then I ran into the world's worst writer's block. So this chapter… I promise you, it was necessary, but it's only slight less than boring. Hopefully within a week I'll be able to get a real chapter up.

Thanks go out to everyone who's favorited or alerted this story, and huge thanks go to: Royed4eva, Ategev, and Htotheizzo. Even more thanks goes to Rayne, who has reviewed every chapter. I hope you find this story again and you didn't think I dropped it after my hiatus!

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Allow me a moment to be a whiny teenager.

I know – _I know_ – that I am better than that, that I can _be_ better than that. Since the day I was _born_ I knew that, and should I ever forget one day I was constantly reminded.

How did they know? Well, he showed them. _He_ let everyone see just what exactly I would grow into, the brave, noble, self-sacrificing man I would become…

Except everyone seemed to forget that your DNA doesn't really dictate who you're going to be. Just because we were the same didn't mean I was going to become him. He… he made sure of that. He prevented the tragedies from happening.

I've never hated someone more in my life for doing that.

* * *

"So what's wrong?"

I sighed and slumped deeper into the cushions of the sofa, gaze aimed intently at whatever insipid cartoon Bulla had turned on earlier. An animated dog was hopping around, barking about how friendship was the only way to solve problems – gag inducing, but paying attention to that was better than listening to one of Gohan Son's infamous lectures.

And if I changed the channel Bulla would _know._ She wasn't in the room, wasn't even paying attention to the TV, but the moment it was changed she would start wailing. And if she started wailing, I was definitely going to _get_ a wailing from our oh-so-loving father.

The cushion shifted under me as Gohan sat next to me and I frowned. "Trunks, you're acting like a child. This isn't-"

"Like me?" I snapped back, cutting him off. "Yeah, cause I'm supposed to be _so mature_ now. All strong and heroic and just absolutely _perfect_."

"Well," he said mildly. "I was actually going to say 'helping you' and maybe remark on how even Bulla can be more mature than you, but I suppose your answer exemplifies my point."

Flushing, I finally allowed my gaze to drop before crossing my arms, acknowledging that I was listening to him. "Whatever. It's not like I even asked for any of this."

"Any of what?" He sighed and I glanced over at him, watching as he rubbed below his eyes, obviously overworked and overstressed. For a moment I felt a stab of something close to pity for him; Gohan was a bit of a workaholic and I knew that he had bitten off more than he could chew with his new job at a local university. The Son generosity came with a rather crippling inability to say no that was being more than exploited by his superiors. "Are you talking about the college development, or Trunks, or….?"

"He's not Trunks. He's… he's _Mirai_ and I'm Trunks," I said rather stubbornly, avoiding answering Gohan's question. "He just… comes back and expects everyone to drop everything…"

"Trunks," he said exasperatedly. "Have you bothered at all to actually see what he's been doing? I was around him for part of one _day_ and I could already tell that the _last_ thing he wants is to be a bother for people, or to make waves or for people to… That's not _like_ him."

"Yeah, cause mister future me is just so perfect, he can't possibly ever want to do anything that wouldn't be just so right." I was being petty, and juvenile, and just about every adjective that my parents had ever bothered to toss my way ( moronic, stupid, and frustrating came to mind ) but I hardly cared. _I_ hadn't asked for Gohan to take his time out to watch me, I hadn't asked for my parents to care about my future.

"Okay. Okay." Leaning back, Gohan pressed two fingers to his forehead as he paused – the edges of his lips moved slightly as he counted silently to ten – before nodding. "All right, let's just not talk about him for a moment. Why did you send out all those empty forms instead of filling them out? That happened before he came back; you can't blame him for that."

_Shows what you know,_ I thought, but this time I managed to keep the snide response to myself before nodding. "What's the point of going to college?"

That caught him off guard. Honestly, I wasn't sure what Gohan was expecting me to say, but that line was more Goten's and less mine. "What's… what's the point? Trunks, you're practically a genius," he said, unable to help breaking into a smile at the last part of his statement. "No, scratch that – you _are_ a genius. College would be a breeze for you and-"

"Absolutely pointless," I finished. "Look, you and me, we both know what I'm going to end up doing for the rest of my life. I'm going to graduated from college, I'll _maybe_ get to spend a year or two living abroad and out of the suffocating grasp of my parents, but then I'm going to be dragged back here kicking and screaming to start working under my mother at the Capsule Corporation's headquarters and I'm going to be stuck there for the rest. Of my life."

Gohan eyed me oddly before nodding slowly. "Bulla could always take over the company. It's not like Bulma's going to want to step down anytime soon and she has more than enough time to help prepare Bulla."

Even before he was done speaking I started to shake my head emphatically; Mom, trying to get the Precious Princess to do _anything_ productive? Perish the thought! And even if _she_ thought it was a good idea, it would be nearly impossible to slide it past Vegeta. "No. _No_. They've already worked it out. I'm going to take over all the family responsibilities and Bulla's going to…" I waved my hand vaguely in the air. "Shit, I don't know. She'll get to run off and do whatever she wants."

"That doesn't seem entirely fair," he said mildly and I snorted. "Trunks, your parents can't _force_ you into doing anything." I frowned and gave him a look, causing Gohan to blanch and rub the back of his head. "Okay, well… _Bulma_ can't force you…"

His voice began to trail off Gohan began to realize just how untrue his statements were. "My parents are… two of the most powerful people on the planet for entirely different reasons. If I wanted to leave or do something else I'd have to fight it out and _win_ with my dad and I can't see that happening. And even if he decided he didn't care… You know mom would have ways of making sure I did what she wanted."

Ways that involved tying up all my money with the conditional agreements. All my accounts, all my assets would be frozen if I stepped too far out of line, and it wasn't that I _needed_ the corporation's money as a lifeline. It was that I had no chance to go out on my own to learn to live by myself. "Right, Gohan… And I wouldn't even mind so much, honestly. I don't care about working at the stupid company, it's just… the whole lack of choice. And it doesn't matter what I do…"

I frowned, glancing down. This conversation was starting to become a bit too personal for my liking. "It doesn't matter, it's fine. I know, I'm acting like a stupid brat. I'll…"

"You're not really mad at him at all, are you?" he asked softly. "It's not that Tr-, that Mirai's ever done anything to you. You just don't want to be mad at your parents."

"Oh, please Gohan," I said, snorting. "I'm sure your faux-psychobabble bullshit is super impressive to Goten and the rest of your family, but we Briefs are not simple creatures. You can't talk with us for five seconds and figure out all of our deep, dark secrets."

"I can't when your secrets aren't exactly deep or dark." I arched a brow and shot a glance at the less-than apologetic Gohan, who just shrugged in response. "Are you telling me that's not true? Because it just sounds like you're frustrated with the unreal expectations your parents have for you. And it's just easy to blame him for it because… well, because of exactly what you said before. Because they got to see just how strong he was all those years ago and they're just waiting for you to grow into that person."

I fell silent, unsure what to say in response to that. I… I mean, I _hated_ Mirai – there were really no _words_ for how much I despised him for his existence – but… Gohan was right. All my reasons for loathing the future version of myself had nothing to do with anything he had ever done and _everything_ to do with it. I was never good enough, never strong enough, never smart enough to please them…

And it was all his fault. "… That's not… they just want me to be as good as they know I could be…"

"Mmhmm," Gohan said, nodding knowingly. "I know a bit about parents trying to push you into something that they think will better you." It was my turn to grin; from all the stories I had heard, his pre-teenage life was always a bit of a tug-of-war between Chi-Chi and Goku. "And no one ever bothers to ask what _you_ think will help because how could you possibly know? You're just a kid."

"Gohan…"

"Sometimes they also view you as their last chance to be relevant. So they didn't get to be the… strongest person-" I winced, knowing exactly who he was talking about. "Or you never got to do more with your life, never had anything more than the martial arts you trained obsessively for. Your kid will be able to do it for you, will be able to be more for you. Then everything you did or… didn't do in your life will suddenly be worth it."

I made a noise in the back of my throat before nodding. "What can you do, then? At the end of the day they're still your parents and you know that whatever they're pushing you into, they're doing it because they care."

"Well, eventually – and hopefully before you find yourself married to a woman you didn't really love because your mother was just so excited at the thought of grandkids – you realize that it doesn't matter if they're doing what they're doing with good intentions. If you don't live your life for you you're going to wind up miserable and alone."

That startled me and I regarded Gohan in a new light. He always seemed so self-assured and confidant in himself. The break-up with Videl had shook him and there had been a several month period… but that was well in the past now. Alone, and miserable…?

Though I had to admit I felt a little relieved knowing that he had never really wanted to be with Videl. The girl was sweet but I was never a fan of hers, especially after their engagement was announced.

"So what is it that you – that I – want with… life? Being miserable doesn't exactly sound like something I'm looking forward to in my life, and the alone part seems like a bit of a drag too."

Gohan shrugged before smiling. "You're never going to be able to make everyone happy, so find something that makes you happy and just run with it. If they really care about you then they'll get over it. Kami knows mom eventually did; she was furious when Videl left me and kept on demanding that I try to win her back. Probably the worst month of my life."

"Wow." That was impressive considering everything Gohan had been through. "That… that must have been a very terrible month."

"Tell. Me. About it." He laughed and stretched his arms out, resting fully in the nook of the couch while nodding at me. "So what is it that you want, Trunks? You need to find something – what you're doing to Mirai isn't fair… and it's obvious that he has his own demons to fight right now, he doesn't deserve to have to deal with yours."

"Yeah, I guess," I said slowly, a frown slowly coming back to my face. "I… no, you're right. I know that it's not his fault that all this happened… I just want to be as good as him, though. I don't… I don't really _want_ anything, other than to stop disappointing everyone."

"Trunks, you're not a disappointment-"

"I want to train, Gohan," I said abruptly, cutting him off. "I'm tired of always being told that I'm lazy, that I have no ambition. I… I want to get stronger. I want to show them that… that I can do it without their help."

"That's… not a bad-"

"You'll help me, won't you?" I asked, turning so that I was facing him fully. The eagerness was obvious in my tone as I stared up at him. "You… I know you're busy with your new job but I'll, I promise I won't disappoint you. Whenever, whatever time is good for you, I don't care how early or late, I'll do it." I almost added _and you said so yourself that you're just alone _but bit my lip before it could make it out. Somehow, pointing out the flaws in the person you were hoping to help you didn't seem helpful.

Gohan sighed, looking rather defeated. "… fine, _fine_! I'll help you train- but don't get excited," he warned, holding up a finger to keep me from… well, really, I wasn't exactly sure what I was about to do. Hug him with excitement? "This is not going to be easy. You think that Vegeta is a hard trainer? Trust me, he'll be a cakewalk in comparison. And it'll be early, before your school and my work, and if I find out that your grades are slipping we're done."

"No, no, that's all fine," I said eagerly. "Whatever you want, I'll do it. I promise you, I won't let you down."

"Yeah…" He smiled wryly, running a hand back over his hair. "Yeah, I'm sure you won't Trunks."


	6. Thanatos

AN: And here, like I promised, is the next chapter of Broken. We return to Goten's POV. Yaay.

Thanks go out to everyone who favorited and alerted this story. Big thanks go out to Rayne. No, I assure you, I'm not going to let this story die. And I'm far too excited for what I have planned in the up-coming chapters.

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Have you ever been inside a mental institution?

I mean a real one. Not one of those glorified self-help groups that's so fondly displayed in TV shows, or the horrific abusive environment that movies love to capitalize on. No, I mean, a _real_ institution. With real sick people who really are there to get help.

It's… depressing. It's oppressive. And suffocating would be another good word to throw out there to describe it.

See, people aren't just locked up away inside of here because someone decides they don't like them and they want to ruin their life. People are locked away because they have _problems_, serious problems that have crippled them, and you don't get a fun happy time when you bring all of them together. You get fights and drama and tempers clashing… and that's on a good day.

Some people fight against the psychiatrists, but that's the minority of patients. Me? I'm in the category that wants help, really wants help, but I find it hard to follow along with Dr. Ler's instructions. I listen, I follow along…

It's just the whole talking aspect I can't seem to wrap my around.

I know there's really nothing wrong with me, but ever since that day there's this screaming in my head that I can't stop. And I know that's all that would come out if I tried to say anything.

* * *

Things had gotten oddly…

Pleasant.

It was weird. I had no idea what Gohan had said to Trunks ( he had probably driven him into submission by forcing him to endure a three-hour-long lecture ) but it seemed to have _stuck_. The purple-haired bastard was actually acting civil to Trunks, was trying to pick up more responsibility around his home, was actually being _nice_ to Bulla, and spent most of his free time working on school work.

No, actually, it wasn't a three-hour lecture. The only plausible explanation was that the queen of some alien race had killed Gohan, dressed up in his skin like a man-suit, and then implanted her eggs into Trunks' brain to make him into her docile servant.

See, Trunks… is an _asshole_. He tries to get away with as little as possible, he views Bulla as a nuisance that must simply be tolerated in order to keep his dad placated, and school work? The man was a freakin' genius; he never needed to study to get straight A's. And that – _that_ – wasn't even touching on how he felt about his future self.

Ever since we had gotten back from the, erm, shopping trip, though, things had gone smoothly. Trunks apologized to me for forcing me to choose between the two of them and then gave something approaching an apology to the other Trunks ( he sorta looked down and mumbled something that could have been 'horny for peking ass', but I think he meant 'sorry for being an ass' ). He then proceeded to stare awkwardly at us before nodding shortly and locking himself in his room.

My 'alien head egg' theory is starting to sound more and more plausible with each passing second.

It's not like we just stopped hanging out, but the guy's weirdly tired all the time now. Three weeks have passed since the whole 'reformed act' started and while normally we would be planning just what shenanigans would go down on Halloween, now all he wanted to do was watch a movie and then just… chill. No mischief making, no gossiping and making snide comments about family members and friends behind their backs. Nothing fun. And it wasn't like I could turn to the other Trunks for that stuff. I mean, he was definitely starting to learn how to relax more but…

"I don't get it."

I was sprawled out on Trunks' bed, lying on my back with my arms hanging off the edge, game controller clutched firmly in my hands. After spending so much time at their place – and with him – I had finally dug out one of my old game systems for him to borrow. The look on his face had been absolutely priceless the first time he had held up one of the controllers, twisting it around to examine it fully before admitting he had no idea what to do with it. I hadn't even thought that was possible – even the Prince of all Hardasses knew his way around the game systems.

Anyway, he was sitting up towards the head of the bed, one leg stretched out with the other propped up near his chest. I was lounging at the foot, hanging partially upside-down while trying to get my character from one side of the screen to the other. An easy job, normally, except when your perception was completely skewed and you kept on jumping straight into the spikes of doom instead of scaling up the wall. He had made a few comments suggesting that perhaps my reasons for failing had less to do with the game and more to do with my lack of manliness. I responded with the most classic and brilliant retort of all time.

"What does my mom have to do with any of this?"

Sighing, I allowed the controller to drop from my hands before lifting my torso up. Inching down some, I propped myself up with my elbows and stared at him in disbelief. "I… really?" He continued to stare before nodding slightly, a 'uh, yeah' expression clearly on his face.

I was starting to rub off on him and I couldn't begin to tell you how pleased I was at that.

"Your mom… you know. It's… like 'what she said'. Someone says something, you wanna give it back to them, so you…" Trunks' brows slowly inched together as I continued to fumble my way through the explanation. How do you _explain_ something like that? "You and… you're just _implying_ that… but sometimes it's so ridiculous that you know it's not possible and that's why it's _funny_…"

"Goten," Trunks said, cutting me off. "… give me the controller and shut up before you somehow start making even less sense." Meekly I complied, shifting up closer to him before turning about to watch the TV.

Nothing was happening between us, before anyone starts going _there_. Vegeta was already making snide comments about how much time we were spending together, though the entire Briefs family – minus the member that actually mattered – still believed it was their son I was heads-over-heels for. The thought that, perhaps, I was just simply a _friend_ and that I had no interest in either of them…

Yeah, even I wasn't really stupid enough to believe that, but I was deep enough in denial that it was easy enough to pretend that was the case.

So that was what I was doing a week ago, sitting around and chilling with the increasingly more-awesome older Trunks ( reasons why shall be listed shortly ). I mentioned before that this had gone on for three weeks now. Well, roughly – I wasn't really keeping detailed track of the timeline or anything. But what I did know was that Halloween was coming up, and the celebration of mischief was about to be biting our asses.

Trunks and I sort of had a tradition, one that had started when I was… five, I think, and had quite merrily continued for all the years following that. The tradition was simple: You go out, you get as much candy as you could carry ( that part had become less important in the previous years ) and you cause as much trouble as possible. I'm not talking 'let's go out and TP a house, hee hee hee' sort of trouble. I mean if kids aren't crying because of us, we did not do our job properly. Property damage occurred often as well, which was why we tried to stick to areas at least fifty miles away, if not more; Bulma would have _killed_ us if the antics of her child affected her business.

Extensive planning was needed to pull it off. You don't just go out haphazardly and _hope_ that you'll manage to put a child into life-long therapy. You need ideas, you need to know the area, you need to know your targets – _you need to put far too much effort into ruining a happy children's holiday._

We had thought about branching out into Christmas but the damage we managed to do on one holiday was already so great that we figured adding a second day would launch the area into a total meltdown.

I had tried talking to him about it, bringing it up during our study sessions, but Trunks always brushed it off, making excuse after excuse. He was tired, he was busy, he had something else he needed to worry about. It was making me start to feel a bit like a nag and I had toned down how much I was bothering him ( which was why I was spending so much more time with the other Trunks… like, a _lot_ more time with him ) and had actually managed to go a week without bringing it up. But the day was rapidly approaching and time was running short. We needed an answer and we needed it _now_.

It was Friday after school – all the important things seem to occur on Fridays – and Trunks was, surprisingly enough, at my house instead of having us meet up at his. He claimed he had something to do in the area so it wasn't a problem and I ignored that; outside of his safety zone and firmly planted in mine would make it that much easier to force him in a corner and get the answers I wanted. And wow, that sounds kinda creepy and like I was planning on taking advantage of him. Go Team Goten.

Uh, back on topic… Like we ( and by that I really meant _he_ ) needed to spend any more time studying. Seriously, between his inattention ( the current time-line Trunks ) and Trunks confusion as to why I _wasn't_ doing my schoolwork ( that would be the future Trunks, for those at home who can't keep up ) I don't think I've ever been as caught up in school as I currently was. I mean, I actually had a paper done that wasn't due until the following Monday.

Yeah. Let that one rock your world.

"Hey." There were a few knocks on my doorframe before the purple-haired teen stepped in, grinning and looking slightly breathless. I raised a brow and he shrugged before sinking down into one of the chairs. "I flew here. No capsule or anything."

"Ah…?" Though his explanation seemed to make sense on the surface – flying expended more energy than walking or running, and going for long distances could easily wind a person – it took only a few moments of thinking to realize he was a big fat liar. Yeah, sure, maybe he really had flown on his own, but we've been doing that since we were kids. There was no way either of us were so far out of shape that the distance from Capsule Corp to Mount Pazou would be too much.

Which meant that he was lying and it probably had to do with the mysterious 'business' he had out here. And probably had a bit to do with his strangely distant attitude lately. I let it slide, mainly because I knew I was going to be able to pry it out of him later. I mean, this was Trunks after all – the guy can't keep a secret from me for his life.

"All right, let's see your math first," he said, holding his hand out expectantly. I grinned and leaned back in my own chair, crossing my arms as he made an impatient gesture with his fingers. "What? Goten, get that shit-eating grin off your face and-"

"It's done Trunks," I said, fighting against the urge to stick my tongue out at him. "I made sure that I finished it during school _and_ I actually understood it. And I got everything else done."

"… then what…?" Seeming a bit confused, and exasperated, Trunks slowly leaned forward to rest his hands on his knees. "Chibi, I appreciate your company but-"

"Of course you do," I said briskly, interrupting him before he could finish. It wasn't like I didn't know what he was going to say. Something about 'having other plans' or 'something else he could have done'. Which was starting to get a little old. What happened to the guy that would get bitchy because I wasn't going to hang out with him one afternoon?

This is what we call foreshadowing folks. And irony.

Trunks reached up and touched his fingers to his forehead as I continued blithely on. "I figured we could use the afternoon to finally go over our plans, since it's like four days away from the most awesome night of the year and we're still completely disorganized. It's been a couple years since we nailed the suburban part of Pepper City so I thought-"

"No." I fumbled with my words mid-sentence as Trunks spoke, sounding resigned and tired. "Chibi, I know I've been dancing around this subject, but…" He sighed, looking anywhere but me. "I have other plans. With other people. And I think it's time we both grew up and stopped doing all that immature… harassing kids? Ruining what supposed to be their night? That's not right."

I gawked – _gawked_– at him, jaw hanging open as my mind rapidly scrambled for a good response. "You… cannot be serious," I finally said as I managed to grab hold of some of my composure. "Trunks, you were the one who started this-"

"When I was _six_, Goten."

"And other plans? With who?" I asked, feeling a bit like an ass for saying that.

"Does it matter? If you don't approve of the person are you going to demand I start spending time with you instead?" Trunks shrugged, looking rather uncomfortable, and I felt the first sparks of anger. Seriously, what the hell – what was with all the theatrics and secret keeping?

So the next words just sort of popped out without too much forethought. I realized that what I was saying was only going to escalate the situation further and could feel myself mentally grabbing at them to hold them back, but the irate part of me slapped the ration down and decided 'to hell with it.' "Why the hell have you been acting like such a dick lately?"

And thus the fuse was lit. Countdown to complete meltdown in five.

"Dick?" Trunks wrinkled his nose before glancing back at me. "You mean, acting responsibly? Taking care of my shit? Growing _up_? Is this what you're referencing?"

"Dress it up however you want Trunks, you're still a dick."

"_How_, Goten? What exactly have I been doing that's so bad."

"You've been blowing me off, to start with."

"You mean I haven't been spending all my time with you and like you would even notice. You're so far up Mirai's ass it's ridiculous."

4.

"Oh, yeah, and how about that? You find every reason to try to rip on him, or drag him down-"

"What the _hell_ are you talking about? I've hardly said two words about the guy in _weeks_! Because I think you've been hanging onto him like a puppy, that's me putting _him_ down?"

"And now it's all secrets and bullshit with you, whatever's going on with you it's too top secret to let _me_ in on-"

"Because maybe I don't feel like telling you everything detail of my life-"

"Maybe you could have given me the memo that you felt that way," I all-but-shouted, glaring at him. "You do a completely three-sixty in less than a day and oh, it's my fault cause I feel you might be acting like an ass? What the hell are you even doing that's so fucking important that you can't even let your 'best friend' in on it?"

3

He didn't snap back at me like we had been doing and instead fell quiet, biting on his lower lip. I gave him a moment to respond, drumming my fingers impatiently along the desktop, before adding on an impatient 'well?'

"I've been hanging out with some people at school… and I started training again… with Gohan." The last bit of his sentence was mumbled, so low I could barely understand, but there was no mistaking the name he tossed out there.

2

Gohan. He was training with my brother.

"You could join us too," Trunks added, looking up at me. "I know, I'm been sort of… it's _exhausting_. Really, that's the main reason I've been so distracted lately but if you trained with us then, you know…"

I stared at him coldly, not saying anything as his voice slowly trailed off. When he finally fell silent I shook my head. "Thanks for the offer," I said flatly. "But I think I'll pass."

"Chibi, why?" Trunks asked, turning back to his nickname for me in an attempt to win me over. At the moment I was annoyed more than anything else by having him use it. "Gohan misses spending time with you and it's not like you're doing much of anything anyways."

"What? What does that mean, not doing much of anything?"

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking down again. "It means that all you do is go to school, avoid the kids there, come straight home and hang out with my family because you have nothing else in your life. It means, Chibi, you're almost a senior and you've never even had job or anything!" By the end of his impassioned speech Trunks had turned his gaze back to me, staring helplessly.

I glared back at him. I mean, really – who the hell was he to try to tell me that I needed to start doing more with my life? Hello, Mr. Pot. You really need to stop giving advice to the Kettle. "Trunks, I don't think-"

"You're _right_," he said, cutting me off. "I know, this coming from me? Talk about a load of horseshit." That got a small smile from me as I couldn't help but nod. "But I've been trying to change that. Chibi, I care about you – I _love_ you and you know that – but in a few years we're going to actually have to start doing something else with our lives and that something else isn't going to involve spending twenty-four seven with each other."

"You're right." Trunks gave me a relieved smile, starting to relax before I continued on. "It is a load of horseshit." The smile froze on his face as his eyes started to widen as the realization that the situation _hadn't_ been diffused started to set in. "Your little stint at being mature is going to fall apart the moment that Gohan pushes you too far and you respond by throwing a hissy fit. And while you're off doing that I'll still be helping Trunks get used to this time."

1

"Oh please." His hopeful, caring attitude vanished as he snorted. "You think you're necessary for Mirai? _He_ feels bad for _you_ and you're just too damn blind to see it." I narrowed my eyes in confusion and he grinned maliciously. "What, you don't know? Every time you leave he immediately gets on the phone with some girl or goes out to see her. You're just a way for him to pass the time until he can talk to her."

And ignition.

Something seemed to crack inside of me, a hot white panel breaking down the middle. I stared hatefully at Trunks before getting up slowly, pointing at the door. "Get. Out."

"Gladly," he sneered, standing and knocking his chair over in the process. He snorted again before storming out, slamming the door shut behind him with such force that the frame trembled and cracked.

I stayed standing for a moment, body wound so tight that I could feel my arms trembling. On my desk was my cell phone, the dark screen staring back at me as I slowly reached out to pick it up. No missed calls, no waiting texts – of course not, who would bother to try to contact me? Except for Trunks, and since that wasn't going to happen anytime soon…

Not after what had just happened.

I flipped it open and sat back down slowly, feeling the anger starting to ebb into a cold numbness. Scrolling through the contacts, I stopped when 'M. Trunks' was highlighted.

I was such an ass. I could call him by his name to his face, but behind his back he was still Mirai to me.

Pressing down, I dialed the number before breathing in sharply, phone held away from my face as it connected to his and started to ring. The small sound carried well in the silent room and with every pause between each ring I stiffened, expecting to hear the 'click' before his voice came on.

One, twice, three, fo- "Hello?" It was a female's voice and my mind froze as I stared at the ticking timer. 35 seconds and now I knew Trunks had been telling the truth. "Hello?" Something muffled in the background – _I don't know, they won't say._

The phone clacked shut, held tightly in my clenched fist as her voice was suddenly silenced. Trunks_, Trunks_. I had thought he was scared, lost, confused-

Fuck. Fuck fuck _fuck_.

There was a horrific whining as the plastic and metal of the phone shivered and shattered, broken shards and wires stabbing into the palm of my hand. I ignored it, the numbness that had rolled over the anger covering up the pain as well.

Going Super Saiyan… it's an indescribable feeling. It's gold, it's hot, and it's _painful_ – I know people sometimes wonder why we wait so long, why we bother fighting at all without powering up and it's because we ( most of us, at least ) try to avoid it. All that power bubbling up and rippling over your skin, it was always _almost_ too much for the body to take. That's why some people hit power caps; theoretically anyone could reach any power level, but the energy would simply be too much for their body to contain.

The power would burn, but that wasn't the worst part. The animalistic rage that boiled up proudly had that title, though I know some of the others _enjoyed_ that feeling. For me it was horrific, like I was losing myself to the mass unconscious collective of the saiyan people. We were a race of blood-thirsty murderers and though we acted different, though we were civilized from being raise with humans, the instincts were still buried under the surface.

This… this was not the same. It hurt – oh _fuck_ it hurt – but it was centered in my chest. Someone had punched a hole through and was squeezing, squeezing until I couldn't breathe and I couldn't think. I wanted to scream so bad but even when I opened my mouth there was no air left to get anything out.

The self-same numbness, though, started to worm around the hole, dampening the pain and blocking out all thoughts. A blinding whiteness crept up, nibbling away the edges of my vision, and the numbness turned cold. Everything was cold, everything was white, and everything was slowly being drowned out by the screaming that was only in my head.

You gotta give us saiyans this – when we do something, we don't do it half-assed.


	7. Sweet Dreams

Most people get to go through life with the luxury of faith. It's a funny thing, because the whole system only works if you don't know if there is a god out there. Once you find out the truth you suddenly realize you no longer need to blindly trust that this individual will do what's best for you and your certainty that 'everything will turn out okay'…

When it turns out that everything doesn't happen for a reason it's really just time until the rest crumbles away.

Call it 'fate', call it the 'plan' – people just like to think that the reason they ended up being twenty minutes late to get to the grocery store was so they could end up in _that_ precise check-out where they could meet the woman or man of their dreams. Such far-reaching coincidences can never happen just by happenstance. Someone is out there guiding every minute detail of their life just because they care _so much_ about the average, every day citizen living in one city that amounts to a pinprick on one planet in the galaxy.

I know that's not the case. The Gods couldn't interfere even if they _wanted_ to. They have vessels on occasion, people like Goku who bend the rules because they are just That Good, but it doesn't matter how much death or destruction will result from a singular act; they cannot reach out and stop it from unfolding. They are just as helpless as we are, only they get to have ringside seats to every disaster.

Some people think that this is better, that this means that we are the masters of our own fates. But that's exactly it. We are the ones who, ultimately, cause every bad thing that has every happened. And every bad thing that happens now…

I would rather believe that there was nothing I could have done than know that I could have been the one to save her.

* * *

The soft faux-fur of the stuffed rabbit tickled my palms some as I held it loosely. It was tiny and somehow seemed even smaller in my hands, though I'm sure part of that was just my mind playing tricks on me. It was just that it seemed so _fragile_ and I knew all it would take was one bad twitch and-

"Hey!" My hands tightened and I could feel the material tearing from the pressure, but the rabbit managed to keep its limbs as my arms jerked in surprised. Glancing to the side, I glared at the giggling redhead. "You know that shade of pink clashes _horribly_ with your hair."

"I wasn't looking to get him for myself," I said, feeling a bit defensive. Hastily putting it back down, I added: "Or anyone. I was just _looking_."

"Him Trunks?" she teased and I could feel myself starting to flush. Reaching out, Hei deftly plucked the slightly damaged rabbit from the rest of the group and lifted it up. "Hmm, it doesn't really look like a boy to _me_," she remarked while giving it a thorough, erm, _examination_. I hadn't known it was possible to feel embarrassed for a stuffed animal before then ( honestly I had never even _had_ a stuffed animal ). "And the color really suggests a girl, though…"

"Oh thanks," I responded flatly. She grinned before hugging it back to her chest. "I just love spending my time being insulted by you."

"Aww, it's not an insult. It's just a different way of showing that I care." Still holding the rabbit, Hei tried to give me a softer smile as she walked up to the register. I followed, rubbing the bridge of my nose. "Besides, it's not as if-"

She caught herself – even from my angle I could see the horrified expression flicker across her face before she smoothed it back with a smile. "- I'm really being mean," she finished and I nodded, smiling.

Hei babbled on and I nodded, barely hearing any of what she was saying. It wasn't like it was important – not that I was _trying_ to put the girl down but she was always full of nothing more than inane ideas and talked about things I had never even heard of before. The latest movies, music, tv shows, and five minutes into one of her explanations as to why Friday Night Dance wasn't as good as its predecessor, Thursday Morning Routine, had my brain checking out.

And it really wasn't a bad thing. As long as I listened to her drone on I could forget about my _own_ problems.

It wasn't until the man working behind the register announced her total ( 15.35 for the rabbit ) that I realized she was _buying_ the damn thing. I opened my mouth but she happily swiped her card. He didn't return her enthusiasm and practically threw it into a plastic bag, wrapping it around the stuffed animal before handing it to Hei. She glanced back at me and jerked her head to the door, gesturing for us to leave as she took the bag.

As she stepped out two children – they couldn't be any older than seven or eight – went tearing by, nearing colliding with her. The one stopped to apologize, lifting up a skull mask he had on, while the other just make an impatient noise and ran off. Hei just laughed as I followed her out, bemused by the spectacle. _What's with all the dressed up kids today? _Normally the mall, our defacto hang out spot, was dead during weekday mornings. Or, at least, not nearly as busy as it was now. The unwelcomed but familiar sensation of panic started to crawl up the back of my arms and I shook my head; I didn't want a repeat of the incident with Goten.

"So what is this for?" Before Hei could say anything I reached out to deftly snatch the plastic bag from her hands. She looked up, momentarily confused by the disappearance of her new toy, before spotting it in my arms and frowning. She reached up and made a halfhearted attempt to snag it back, but with the half a foot I had on her there was really no point in her trying.

Not to mention the vast difference in strength, though Hei acted like she had never noticed.

"Be careful. You'll touch it and it'll lose its head this time," she warned me. I snorted but my grip loosened as I lowered the bag down. The bag was translucent and I wrapped it tighter, molding the plastic over the rabbit's head. Pink fur was matted against the bag and its black eyes stared at me blankly.

"And out of all of them, why did you pick the damaged one? No one would have noticed if you just left it sitting there." Her frowned deepened and she made another swipe, this time seeming more serious about getting it back.

"Trunks," she whined. "Give me back my bunny."

I felt myself start to smile, absurdly amused by the situation. "Not until you tell me why you got it," I teased, turning a bit so that I was facing her as we walked. Hei just continued to pout and, over her head, I caught the gaze of two teens walking together. The male whispered something to the female and she smiled, hooking her arm through his while she nodded at me.

_What…?_

"I just wanted one of the bunnies!"

"Oh?" I turned my attention back to Hei. "So why'd you pick this one?"

"Cause… he was hurt. No one else was going to want to take him and I didn't want him to be all alone."

I get the parallel now ( and I recognized them then, I just didn't want to really acknowledge it ) but at the moment it just sounded like a dumb but plausible excuse. With a groan I handed the bag back and Hei hugged it gleefully, sticking her tongue out as she did. "Oh, that's _real_ mature."

"Like you're one to talk." She gave me another dirty look before glancing around. "Wanna go get ice cream?"

I felt a bit uneasy surrounded by the ever growing throng of people, but before I could respond Hei placed a hand on my arm and smiled. The first time she had suggested we meet at the mall – _'We both know where it is, it only makes sense'_ – I had thought that maybe, perhaps, she had _forgotten_ about 'the incident'. Five minutes into our awkward first conversation and I realized that she hadn't and that she was a cruel and spiteful witch.

Which wasn't true at all. I could have just as easily declined her suggestion, or insisted we go somewhere else, but dealing with it with her seemed worlds better than letting anyone else see just how… _fragile_ I had become.

"Come on soldier," she quipped as she led me over to the small and brightly-painted ice cream shop. That wasn't the first time Hei had called me that and I never bothered to ask what she meant.

Darla, our Ice Cream Artisan of the day, greeted us with a wide smile as we walked into the shop. "Hei, Trunks," she said and Hei grinned widely as she bounded up to the counter. If there was anyone who ever lived up to the 'kid in a candyshop'…

_Goten would act the same way._ The thought came from nowhere and felt like a sucker punch to the ribs, jolting me from my momentary sense of peace and wellbeing.

"Rush time hit yet today?" Hei asked as she tapped on the glass covering the ice cream. "Oh, a strawberry cheesecake and a cotton candy. I would have thought this place would be crawling with the kiddies by now."

"I don't whether to say I'm lucky or not but I think parents are trying to go for a healthy Halloween this year." The elderly woman made a 'what can you do' gesture as she heaped generous amounts of ice-cream onto two waffle cones. "I'm sure the manager is going to be crying his woes out tonight but I'm just glad I don't have their sticky fingers all over my store."

"Always the optimist." Before she could pay I stepped forward and handed Darla more than enough money to cover two cones. Hei just flashed me a grateful smile as she took both, freeing me up to take back my change.

"Now you treat her right Trunks," Darla said in a stern warning tone as we walked from the store. I felt another jolt of confusion as Hei handed me the pink-and-white ice cream. _First the couple, now Darla…_ Was there something going on that everyone _else_ was aware of that I wasn't?

As we made our way over to one of the backless white benches another child, this time clad in cape and afro and looking nearly identical to Hercules, burst in between us. Hei stumbled, cursing as her hand jerked up and smeared some of the ice cream onto her chest. "God damnit… what the fuck is it with me and getting blue food on me when I'm with you?"

"You'd think you'd be better at putting it in you," I responded quickly, still watching the mini-Hercules. After a few seconds passed with no response I looked back at Hei. Her expression was a mixture of amusement and horror. "… wait, no, I didn't mean it like that!"

Amusement won out and she laughed as she sat down. "Trunks, one of these days…" As she sat pulled the napkin off from around the cone, using it to try to scrape off most of the food on her shirt.

"So, um, what's with all the traffic around here today?" I asked the question hesitantly as I sat down by her and, as I expected, Hei just gave me a quizzical look in return. "Darla mentioned something about Halloween but I thought that wasn't for another couple days." At least I hoped it wasn't. Goten had seemed so hyped up at the thought of introducing me to the holiday that I couldn't imagine what his reaction would be if I had somehow missed it.

"Yeah, that's the actual date of Halloween. Today's something they call Safe Trick-Or-Treat." Hei gestured at the kids running by, haggard parents trailing behind them. "Trick or treating start to get pretty out of hand a couple years back so a bunch of parents got together and came up with the idea of having a separate night for just the little ones. Kids twelve and up aren't allowed to participate – though I'm sure they make exceptions all the time – and it's normally set up inside a place like the mall so that it can be supervised better. The stores get more business, the kids get their candy, and the parents feel just a little more comfortable about the whole thing."

"Oh. That sounds… actually pretty smart."

"Yeah. People are capable of coming up with a good idea every now and then." Hei smiled before nudging me in the ribs with her elbow. "So tell me, what sort of crazy plans do you have for the All Hallow's Eve?"

"For what?" The name she used perplexed me and she just sighed. "If you mean Halloween I… really none. I mean, I think Goten might had wanted to do something but we haven't really…"

"There's a shocker," she said wryly, her expression dancing with amusement. Before I could respond she continued on. "I'm holding a party at my place. You know, some large and wild and wicked and not at all your style since you channel the party sense of an old lady. You should come. Bring your boy friend with you."

_Boy friend_. That completely went over my head.

"He has a name, you know."

"Yeah, what is it? Gopher or something like that?"

"Go_ten_- how… how do you get _Gopher_ from that?" I asked incredulously and she just laughed. "I mean, sure, you got the G part right but from there you just veered off in the wrong direction."

"Sorry I don't keep up with these things. Regardless, you gonna ask him?" I shrugged before finishing off the last of my cone. Hei held the rest of hers out for me and I sighed before taking the blue and purple monstrosity from her hand.

"Sure, why not. Not making any promises though."

That was good enough for her and she nodded. "Just let him know. It'll be fun meeting him."

I glanced over at Hei, but she was already distracted by the crowd milling around us. This wasn't the first time I had felt confused over something she had done or said, and she never seemed to act like she noticed my clumsy attempts to keeping up with her. She was smart, though – I know I've said this but it bears repeating. She knew when I was only barely keeping my head above water and eased off then, giving me time to find some solid under my feet before pushing me off balance. And with her, _yeah_, I didn't really expect anything different.

But what was I supposed to do? The couple and Darla flashed back and I looked away quickly. There was no denying that I liked Hei – I mean, I had to, because the way I felt about her was definitely different from how I felt about Goten and I knew _he_ was my friend – and she was more than nice enough. Maybe… that's what I was supposed to do.

It seemed like the only logical conclusion to come to. I was a boy, she was girl, this was our third date ( we had been saying we were just hanging out but I knew better ) and now she was offering for me to bring a friend to meet her. I was _supposed_ to move forward now.

"Hei?" I looked over at her as she glanced back at me, making a small noise to question what I wanted.

And then I kissed her.

It… was cold. And sweet and sticky but I think that was from the ice cream. I had never kissed anyone before ( the times I had kissed Mother on the cheek didn't really _count_ ) but I knew the general gist. Lips mash together and at some point the tongue comes out, though I didn't really know what to do with that. I moved my right hand, the one not holding the half-melted cone, to rest against Hei's back and she stiffened at my touch, her entire body becoming completely rigid as I awkwardly half-held her in the middle of the mall.

I smiled at her after I ended the kiss, trying to salvage whatever I could of the situation. She just stared back blankly and confusion and anxiety replaced the _I had done good_ feeling. "… Hei?"

"… Yeah Trunks?"

"Didn't you want me to…"

Her brow furrowed and my voice just trailed off. "You think I wanted you to kiss me?"

And _bang_ went the final nail in my coffin. I stood up abruptly, face bright red from embarrassment. _Yes_, I had thought that – what else could you have possibly wanted? To be my friend? To help me? _No_.

Before I could get more than two steps away Hei's hand snapped up, grabbing my wrist. I could have easily pulled away from her but I just stood still, rooted to the spot. "Don't go," she pleaded, tugging gently on my arm, and with great reluctance I returned to my seat on the bench.

"Hei, I'm so sorry-"

"Trunks, I _do_ like you," she said, interrupting me. I blinked and went silent, feeling, once again, confused by what was going on. "But that doesn't mean I want to go out with you."

"If you like me though…"

She smiled and released my wrist. "I think you're becoming a good friend. And I want that more than I want a boyfriend. Besides, I don't think you like me like that."

Considering my reasons for kissing her in the first place could boil down to 'well she probably wants me to' I couldn't really disagree with her. "I don't really know that I _don't_ like you like that," I offered. "I could. I mean, I might."

Hei just laughed. "That's sweet Trunks but I already know you don't. I think there's someone else you're a little more interested in."

"Someone else?" She smiled, obviously teasing me. "Who else am I even seeing?"

"Really Trunks? It's obvious that it's-" She was interrupted by a beeping from her waist. Hei glanced down at the beeper on her waistband and sighed, looking visibly upset by the message that had popped up. "Damnit," she cursed, getting to her feet.

"What?" I glanced down at the beeper before looking back up at her – her work rarely interrupted her when she had time off and I had never seen her look this upset. "What is it?"

"A Ten-Eighty Four. On tonight too." Hei let out an annoyed sighed as she glanced around. She patted her hip and nodded, confirming that her wallet and cell phone were still on her person. "I'm sorry Trunks but I need to go. I'll call you later, all right?"

"Don't worry about it," I said, but she was already walking away before I could finish. Hei lifted a hand to wave back at me but she seemed far too distracted for a proper goodbye. A bit irked, I stood up to throw out the rest of the food before catching sight of a plastic bag stuffed under the bench.

The rabbit. Becoming annoyed myself, I reached down and snatched the bag up. "If this was your plan all along," I grumped, throwing the cone out. "I am not keeping this stupid bunny Hei."

There was no reason for me to continue to stay in town now that she had left, so with the rabbit in tow I started to make my way slowly toward the south exit. Curiosity sparked up in me as I walked ( I needed something to do to pass the time ) and I took out my phone. It only took a few moments to connect to the internet and just a few keywords from there – '1084' + 'Police' – to try to work out what type of situation Hei was responding to. Considering _her_ job it had to have been something like a drug offender, or child abuse, or-

Or homicide. "What…?" Unease crawled up my spine as I stared down at the glowing white screen. Counseling would definitely be involved in that situation, making it no wonder why she had gotten paged. But, still… "Don't get hurt Hei."

I clicked on a button, closing the page. Before I could slip the phone back into my pocket it went off, vibrating and cheerfully belting out some currently popular tune. The caller ID read 'Trunks Brief' and for a moment I almost didn't answer – this would mark the momentous occasion of being the first time he had called me and I wasn't sure I wanted to hear what he had to say. With a sigh I clicked 'answer' and lifted the phone to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Mirai?" I immediately snapped to attention – the panic was practically oozing from the phone. "Mirai, Gohan left and I don't know… I don't know what to do now. He won't_ talk_ and there's _blood_, it's _everywhere-_"

"Trunks? Trunks, where are you?" I demanded, though even as I asked I reached out. His energy signature was flaring and shaking and, next to it, I sensed Goten's, though his was oddly muted. "Just hold on. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"It's Goten," he blurted out and I froze. "I don't know what to do. It's everywhere and I don't know what to do."

I don't think I said anything in response to that – I don't think I could have said anything. I'm not even sure I actually left the mall before bursting into the sky, Trunks words echoing in my head.

_There's blood everywhere and it's Goten._

_

* * *

_

AN: Author note time! And at the bottom this time.

This… chapter was incredibly hard to write, which is probably evident by A: how long it took to come out and B: by just how crappy it is.

I have this story all worked out in my head. I know what's to happen in each chapter and what's going to happen to the characters and how relationships form and all of that. And while working all this out the character of Hei was created.

I… am terrified of her. I am terrified of having you read about her and then decide you hate this story and you won't ever come back because how dare I add in an original character. I tried to remove her, but I couldn't – M. Trunks needed a friend who was completely unaware of his history. A neutral sounding board. And there was no way such a character was going to come from the pre-established cast of characters.

There's actually a really long and indepth explanation I had for her existence but I'm tired and this needs to go up. I hope no one really decides to suddenly hate this story because of this.

Rayne: If you're still around, I didn't abandon this. Thank you so much for your support.

Kanamy: Gohan and Trunks in _my_ story? It's more likely than you think!

Everyone else: Thank you for the favorites and the author alerts. You have no idea how much they do urge me to write when I get the emails alerting me to that. It's like another little jab to my conscience that spurs me on.


End file.
